She's Like the Moon
by C. Hawthorne
Summary: What's love? I think it's different to everyone. To these two, it's lost undergarments, deranged fathers, and the fact that no matter how annoying a girl is, sometimes she just makes life worthwhile. au.
1. Baby Pool

Um hi... well, I'm writing a new story... it's IchiRuki, so you don't have to worry about any more original characters or anything like that. But if you DO like original characters, you should read "Akamori." Sorry about all the ribbing, but... it's my best story so far. I am putting my original character in here as well. And if you don't mind, I would like a review for each chap. : D This is an AU story, so enjoy the alternate universie-ness! IchiRuki is my favorite Bleach couple, because they're so different and I love that! Well, I've talked enough so far, just enjoy the first chappie! (He-he, pardon the pun.) –SW

_Stay up too late, and I'm too thin. We promise each other it's till the end _

&

"Rukia, you're hogging the sunscreen!" Tatsuki grumbled, giving her black haired friend a sour look. "You want me and Orihime to turn into cherries?" the short haired combatant lay back on her beach chair as Rukia continued to slather on more of the white SPF ninety.

"I have really light skin, thank you very much!" Rukia insisted as she began to shake the bottle. "It's not coming out anymore!" the bottle made a wispy air noise. Rukia crinkled her nose at the bottle. _You, sunscreen, will rue the day you ever messed with me… _she thought.

A girl with long orange hair and pretty grey eyes giggled lightly. "Rukia, I think it's… empty!" Orihime Inoue liked to watch Rukia have her little tantrums over absolutely nothing.

"It isn't!" Rukia mumbled, laying the sun block onto her white and blue striped beach chair and beginning to beat it violently. "It's just constipated is all!"

"Did it eat too much cheese, then?" Tatsuki joked. Orihime laughed again but Rukia rolled her eyes, wondering how they could find this funny. It was sunscreen, for cripes sake! They were going to fry in the heat! Eighty four degrees was very hot for Karakura Town, a tiny hamlet in Western Japan. Rukia, Tatsuki and Orihime had all lived here since babyhood, and knew every single nook and cranny of the place.

"Who wants a Popsicle?" Orihime said sweetly, breaking the silence by reaching into a nearby cooler and producing two flavored ice pops. "They're sort of melted. But you guys don't care, do you?"

"Nah," Tatsuki said with a slight smile, taking the Popsicle from her ginger haired friend. "I think they taste better this way, really." She began to lick it, gazing out at the big sky hanging above her head with a dazed expression. The three girls loved their Karakura, because it was theirs. No one else loved it as much, had as many fond memories here. It was like heaven to them.

"Mhm," Rukia breathed, taking her lemon Popsicle and staring at it. She never started eating right away, because it didn't make much sense to gobble stuff up as soon as people gave it to you. "Whose house are we staying at tonight?"

The girls sort of had a tradition. Every summer night they'd criss-cross between the three of their houses and have a sleepover there. Really fun, but pretty tiring too. Rukia was the least popular host, and Orihime the most.

"Orihime's," Tatsuki said suddenly. Rukia nodded her head in fervent agreement. Her parents were extremely rich and horribly stuffy. Rukia liked not having to worry about money, but she didn't like the fact that her family was so cold and distant from her.

"I'm making Omikaze Cake!" Orihime declared, her eyes sparkling with glee. Both Rukia and Tatsuki sweatdropped; Orihime had a strong tendency for making strange, inedible food. The last time she tried it, Rukia found herself on the toilet for three days.

"Uhm that's nice, 'Hime," Tatsuki said nervously, using Orihime's nickname to make her feel more at ease. "We'll—try it, won't we Rukia?"

"Yep." Rukia's tone was uncertain, but Orihime didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were on the swimming pool's glassy blue surface, eyeing it with both desire and worry. They both knew that Orihime couldn't swim. She was so afraid of drowning that she took an inner tube with her whenever she bathed.

"Eheh..." Orihime said, looking away from the pool with vines of pink creeping up her cheeks. Rukia inwardly scolded herself; why did she never change the subject? "Aren't you two going to swim?" she didn't seem to care, but Tatsuki answered her defiantly.

"We're not swimming if you're not." She looked down at her black one pieced bathing suit. "I don't even know why I wore this, if I wasn't going to swim. What about you, Rukia?"

Rukia did feel a longing to swim. "I'll try the kiddie pool." Even though it was about a foot deep, Rukia wanted to get into the water somehow, because she'd bought this swimming suit just today.

She did feel a bit guilty as she strode down the dry, cracked concrete to the little gated pool. Tatsuki was a good friend not to swim, but Rukia couldn't help it.

She opened the wrought iron gate and stopped near the edge of the pool, cautiously dipping a foot in. Warm, probably from all the babies that had peed in it. She slowly lowered in one leg, only to be surprised by a voice.

"I wouldn't do that."

Rukia looked up to see a very tall teenager with a shock of bright orange hair and a furrowed brow. He had tanned skin and brown eyes, and he wore red trunks. He himself was kneeling in the pool with a small sandy haired girl who looked to be about one or two. She wore a little pink bikini.

"Huh?" Rukia was dumbfounded by being addressed so suddenly. The boy's irritated expression did not change.

"I wouldn't get in here. It's dirty as hell." The little girl giggled at this statement, and Rukia figured she didn't know what hell meant.

"You're in here," she mumbled, giving him a look to match his own.

"I have babysitting duty," he said matter-of-factly. "You're just here… yeah, why are you here?"

"Guilt," Rukia stated. She wouldn't swim in the big pool for Orihime's sake, but she could use the baby one. "My friend doesn't know how to… why am I even explaining this to you anyway?"

"Beats me," the guy shrugged. Rukia noticed he had a well toned body, and… the trunks clung to him like a second skin. She went red and looked away, going quiet for a minute there. She heard Orihime laugh in the distance, and suddenly longed for her friends. "This is my little sister here. Yuzu," he explained as the little girl splashed around.

"She's cute," Rukia remarked, eyeing the cute face and big brown eyes of Yuzu. "I'm Rukia."

"Ichigo Kurosaki." Ichigo made a slight stretching noise and got to his feet. "Yuzu, c'mon—"

"Onii-chan…" Yuzu grumbled. "I wanna stay!"

"We've gotta go, okay?" Ichigo said irritably to his sister, and Rukia could tell his patience was wearing horribly thin. She smirked. "Don't you miss Karin?"

"All she does puzzle," Yuzu complained, her babyish words funny in the eyes of Rukia, an only child. "And vroom-vroom."

"Vroom-vroom?" Rukia questioned, raising her eyebrows at the odd speech.

"Plastic cars," Ichigo explained blankly, finally taking Yuzu by her little hand. "Yuzu, NOW."

Yuzu's face began to contort, and they both knew what was coming. Tears blazed salty streaks on her sun burnt face, and Ichigo didn't seem the slightest bit fazed. He snatched Yuzu up, much to her chagrin, and waved a hand over his shoulder.

"Later Rukia." He didn't have much emotion in his voice, now did he?

"Later…" Rukia said. She sighed, now alone, and began to tap the water's surface with her pale fingers. It made little craters, which made her smile a little bit. She wanted to get the last of the water for today, because they were going to the museum tomorrow.

Orihime had a planned schedule for the summer, and it was extremely intricate—including the types of foods she was going to eat and on what day she was going to eat them. Rukia and Tatsuki had obviously found this absolutely freaky, so they'd created their own schedule and reasoned with Orihime until she went along. Guilt followed, but as long as they didn't have to eat Omikaze Cake…

"Rukia!" Orihime's voice came out of the gloom.

"Uh, hey," Rukia gave a good natured smile, and eyed the plain black cell phone in Orihime's fingers. "My..."

"Your dad called while you were in the baby pool," the redhead explained, lowering the slightly damp cell phone. "He said that your sleepover bag was in the pool office." She looked toward the heavily windowed building just then. "We'd better go get it before somebody steals your silk undies!" she started to giggle hysterically at her own joke. Rukia loved the fact that Orihime could look like a complete idiot in public and not care what anyone else had to say about it.

The two girls shook their hair dry and knocked on the office's door. A boy with blond bobbed hair answered, his slightly large teeth taking a significant amount of beauty from his face. He looked on them with bluish gray eyes.

"Hey ladies. You wanna get out of here and go do somethin--" he was silent as Rukia nailed him on the head with her phone, her brow furrowed. "O-or we could just stay here. Your choice." Shinji Hirako turned away.

"I came to get my bag," Rukia said. "Where is it, anyway? You better not have stolen my silk—" she tore a look at Orihime. "Blouse." With flustered blue eyes Rukia glared at Shinji effectively. The young man began to rifle furiously behind the counter in the pile of bags and purses.

"Um... this one, right?" he held up a brown leather bag. Rukia shook her head, patience thinning by the second.

"It says 'Kuchiki' right on the front."

As Shinji continued to look for Rukia's bag, Orihime seasoned the moment with aimless small talk. Rukia nodded and put in 'mm-hm's when she was asked questions. She leaned against the wall separating them from Shinji, letting the cool air find its way across her body. It was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat which made her feel like her skin was screaming.

"I can't find a bag that says Kuchiki on it," Shinji said finally, shutting the cabinet from which the mountain of luggage had come. "You might wanna look around some more. Maybe it hasn't been dropped off yet or something." The idiotic pool manager knew that Rukia's bags were always dropped off by a Kuchiki family servant, and he said it with apparent disdain. _How dare you… pool demon,_ Rukia thought.

"GET OFF IT!" yelled an angry voice. Orihime was the first to react, but Rukia looked too. In the alley separating the pool office from the sun porch were four silhouettes. Two were sort of stocky, and one was very long and lean. The fourth was tall and bulky. They were in some sort of a tangle over a small, cushiony object. After a moment of staring, Rukia recognized its unique shape with horror.

"My bag!!" she kicked over a black fold up chair and bumped into a few pool goers to get there, but a moment later Rukia was standing on the bench to get a bird's eye view of this. She opened her cell phone for some light, and the figures were bathed in it. The first was pudgy and dark haired, the second almost an exact replica. The third… Rukia froze.

It was Ichigo, the boy from the baby pool. He had the stocky man in a strong headlock, and Rukia didn't notice how strong he really was, how muscular… he was different from the kid who was talking to his baby sister earlier that day.

The second man was taller than Ichigo, with dark skin and messy dark brown hair. He looked Hispanic, and he was standing in the center of the motley group with his arms crossed. His expression was rough, rigid. Rukia wondered if he was just really calm or if she was imagining him. Maybe…

"HEY, ASSHOLE! NEXT TIME YOU FEEL LIKE RANDOMLY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' SHIT, LET ME KNOW! I'LL BE WAITING IN THE WINGS!" Ichigo bellowed, throwing several hard punches to the man's now beet red face. The man coughed hard, and Ichigo seemed to get a lot of mileage out of it. He threw the shorter guy to the ground and began to kick him back and forth across the face, making loud 'WHACK' sounds as he did so. Rukia recoiled with each one, frightened. She felt like Shinji should step in eventually, but all the while was too afraid to turn away.

"Rukia," Orihime whispered, her tone as afraid as she looked. "Maybe we should just go!" she rocked back and forth on her heels nervously. "I don't think your dad will care, if it's stolen!" her eyes darted from the bag to the sun porch eagerly.

"I care," Rukia stated defiantly, continuing to keep an eye on the fight. "It's my stuff--" she turned to her redheaded friend. "And my silk undies, darn it! I'm saving them... well, actually Ichigo is saving them but..." she broke off as the man lie motionless on the ground, and the other looked from Ichigo to the statue-like boy, unsure of what to do next. Rukia smirked on his behalf, and haphazardly approached Ichigo.

"Um, thanks for that." She gave a small smile, and Ichigo wouldn't meet her eyes. He simply retrieved one of his shoes from the ground that had been kicked off during the fight and held out her bag with unfocused fingers.

"Don't mention it. I don't like it when people are messed with, particularly people who can't take care of themselves." Ichigo blinked and cracked his knuckles as the sentence sunk in to Rukia's mind.

"Hey, I can too take care of myself!" she snapped.

"You should be hiding in a corner going, 'Excuse me, limo? I'm in trouuuuble!'" Ichigo put on a high girly voice, which Rukia found endlessly irritating. He had a smug look on his furrowed features, and gave away nothing from his stare.

"I don't call the limo! The limo is dumb!" Rukia countered lamely, feeling the idiocy of her comment as soon as it had left her lips. "Besides, why'd you do that, anyway?"

"Don't feel special," Ichigo said. "Like I told you before, I just don't like it when people are messed with. End of story." He began to walk away as Rukia fumed after him. _Stupid orange headed punk thinks he can..._

"If you need saving again, I'll see what I can do." Ichigo… was such a smartass…

**&**

"Hello?" Orihime called throughout her apartment as the three dumped their pool bags in the corner. "Sora!!" (**A/N: Um, Sora is alive in this fic... just clearing things up). **

"Hi, Orihime," her big brother answered brightly, switching off the television to face the three girls. "Did you have a nice time at the pool?"

"Rukia met her knight in shining armor!" Orihime giggled. Rukia swatted her on the arm, disgusted by her nerve. She bit her lip and turned to Tatsuki, who shrugged. She hadn't been there for the whole bag thing, after all.

"Knight? Ph." Rukia took a seat on the sofa, and Sora smiled sympathetically at her. He knew how Orihime was about boys. Maybe it was the fact that their mother had never been around to teach her right from wrong about them. Or maybe it was just her personality.

After a lot of ribbing from Tatsuki, Orihime called for pizza. Sora insisted that they get one smothered with garlic and anchovies, and Orihime wasn't one to refuse her big brother. Rukia didn't understand this exchange, so she sat idly on the couch until the doorbell sounded and made her fall.

"C-coming!" she muttered, turning the green doorknob to reveal a seedy young man with shoulder length black hair and nervous bluish gray eyes. His nametag read "Hanatarou", and in his arms were the coveted pizzas. The label said "Ganjyu's Finest", and depicted a smiling man with black hair and a large face.

"Um, that'll be fourteen fif—fifty nine," he mumbled, holding out a black leather pouch. Rukia slipped two twenty dollar bills into it, and smiled when he looked up with huge eyes.

"Keep the change, okay?" she grinned wider as a shocked Hanatarou closed the door behind him, a small smile forming on his face as he gazed at the money. As she turned around, Rukia caught sight of herself in a small mirror.

Large navy blue eyes stared back at her, framed by white skin and shining black hair. Rukia's mouth and nose were petite, like the rest of her body. Rukia stood at a grand total of five feet, and it annoyed her greatly. Her father was tall. Her mother was average. And yet she was short. Unfair. Rukia had thought of herself as the moon: always outshone by the sun.

The "sun" was Rukia's sister Akamori. Tall, exotic, and genius, Akamori had what everyone wanted. Rukia sometimes thought that their father liked Akamori better than her. It was Akamori's papers that always made their way to the top of the bulletin boards in his office. It was Akamori who was the golden child.

Not that Akamori TRIED to outdo Rukia. She was just naturally good at everything, and Rukia hated her for it. Why did SHE have to get all the good genes?

"Rukia, pizza!" Orihime called, and the hunger was evident in her voice. Rukia shook off her worries and strode silently down the hallway, a bit of grease from the pizzas dripping onto her fingers. She winced at the piping hot liquid, sitting down on the cushy couch with Tatsuki, Orihime and Sora. It didn't take long before they dug fiercely into the pizza, but Rukia didn't mind.

"Yeah, well, I've gotta get to work now," Sora said, ruffling Orihime's hair sweetly. "Be good, 'Hime."

"Bye bro," Orihime called after him, and Rukia felt a horrible twinge of jealousy as the door shut behind him. Her brother was so nice… and Rukia's family was so… ugh. She lay back on the couch and sighed, wondering what they were up to right about now.

"Hmm." Tatsuki finished her first slice of pizza and looked around the room. "Orihime, have you like… redecorated?" they all knew that Tatsuki didn't care, and was just trying to make conversation. The dark haired girl was more into martial arts and weightlifting; she could really care less about decorating.

"Not really, but Sora says we'll get around to it when we have the money." She looked down at the ground and Rukia immediately felt guilty about the jealousy. She would give Orihime all her money if she could.

Rukia's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden ring on her cell phone. The tone was Beethoven's Ninth, and she flipped it open so she wouldn't have to hear the wretched noise.

"Hello?"

"Uh, Rukia… right?" the voice sounded sort of familiar, but Rukia couldn't put a finger on it.

"Yes. Who's this?"

"It's Ichigo Kurosaki." Oh, right. 'Night in shining armor.'

"How'd you get this number?" Rukia demanded icily, gripping the phone much harder than she had before.

"It was in the directory," Ichigo stated. "Under Kuchiki. Anyway, I went back to the pool to pick up some stuff, and I noticed something. A pair of… underwear was on the ground, and I was wondering if you…"

"How do you know if they're mine?" Rukia asked incredulously, still reeling from the fact that her phone number was listed. Wait a minute… a pair of underwear?

"It had your name on it, and a bunch of big white rabbits…" Uh-oh. Rukia's bunnies had really messed her up this time. Ichigo had found… damn it!

"Heh…" Rukia mumbled nervously. "Mail them to me!" she fumbled nervously with the phone, juggling it back and forth with anxious hands. This was horrible, absolutely horrible… what would Byakuya think of this when the underwear showed up in a package? From a boy, no less!?

"They are yours, huh?" Ichigo had concealed amusement in his usually flat voice.

"Yes, they're mine! I think we've established that you found _my _underwear." Rukia snapped.

"Why can't I just drop them by your house?" good gosh. Take them by the house? Byakuya would go after Ichigo with a sawed-off shotgun if Ichigo showed up with a pair of his daughter's underwear!

"It's um… please mail them," Rukia insisted, taking another slice of pizza from the box to busy herself. Ichigo had found her undies. Oh my God.

"O—kay," Ichigo said, slightly perturbed by the fact that she had asked to have them MAILED. "I'll do that." He bit his lip.

"Well, bye," Rukia hung up before Ichigo had a chance to speak again. When she turned back to her friends, they looked like they were on the borderline between curious and stunned.

"Interesting," Tatsuki remarked quietly. "So... a boy has your underwear? How did that happen?" her brown eyes sweeped over Rukia as a smile formed on her lips.

"Oh!" Rukia finally understood what her friend meant, and she went pink. "No, no, Ichigo's my friend. I dropped my underwear at the pool this morning, and he picked them up. Nothing else happened." She bit her lip and turned away; there was never an easy way to convince Tatsuki.

"Well, let's not just talk about Rukia! I'm sure she's getting sick of it!"

"You hit that one right on the nail," Rukia muttered.

&

Well, did you like? I'd appreciate it if you took two minutes of your time to tell me what you think. Any kind of opinion is welcome.


	2. Strange Feelings

Finally, time for the next chapter. Thanks for the reviews… or rather, _review… _sweatdrop… thank you. Anyway, I feel like uploading this next chap now, just because I'm insanely bored of this writer's hiatus thing everyone seems to have going on. So I'll be the one to break the mold! Well, not really. Just enjoy the chap and be merry.

**&**

"Ichigo, come and eat NOW!" Isshin bellowed, pulling his son out of the relaxing slumber he had just fallen into. "Or go hungry!" as soon as Ichigo heard these words, he realized that he would've preferred starving to actually sitting down to dinner with his father. The disturbed carrot top then turned over onto his stomach and grumbled a string of profanities into his pillow. He could hear Isshin bumbling about in the kitchen and the whining of his sisters, which only made him bury his head further. "ICHIGO KUROSAKI!"

Ichigo punched the bed frame and got to his feet, which felt pressured by the sudden weight. He turned his head to the window and saw that twilight was quickly approaching, the sky erupting with a powerful spectrum of blood red and deep orange. The ginger haired young man sighed and made his way to the door, which stood ajar. With growing irritation he realized that his father had been spying again. Terrific. By the time he reached the kitchen, Ichigo's intent to kill was through the roof.

His father was standing by the stove, juggling four plates. Ichigo smirked silently and sat down in his usual chair, backed up against the window. A large portrait of an extremely beautiful woman looked at him from the wall, with dark blonde hair and naturally red lips. She was smiling, and the name 'Masaki' was written in cursive at the bottom of the picture. Ichigo knitted his brows and looked away from her, as he so often did. He didn't have to look now, because Isshin was currently spooning mashed potatoes onto his son's plate. As much as he hated to admit it, the heat and smell of them made his stomach cry out sharply.

Yuzu and Karin picked up their tiny forks and began to take bites, their small lips curled with instant pleasure. Ichigo glanced at his own plate, which bore much larger portions, and swallowed his own saliva. Maybe he should eat... the redhead picked up his own silverware and shoveled the dinner in haphazardly, alarmed at how quickly he'd given in. This feeling subsided, though, as soon as the piping hot food made its way down his throat.

Isshin smiled good-naturedly, but decided not to bug Ichigo for right now. His boy was scowling, but then again that wasn't new. The older man sat down at his spot, on Yuzu's left side. Ichigo sat directly across the table, and next to him there was an empty chair. It seemed much firmer than the others, and there were a lot less nicks and imperfections in it. It wasn't ever used; Isshin made sure of that.

"Dad," Ichigo said vacantly, not looking up from his dinner. "Do we have packing paper?" he seemed to be off somewhere else in his thoughts.

"Yes," Isshin replied brightly, sending a smile his son's way. But as usual, Ichigo ignored him. "What do you need it for?"

"I've gotta mail something." Ichigo looked at the cuticles on his left hand indignantly, "By overnight, and I don't want it being ruined or stolen..."

"It's in the pantry, under the extra paper towels," Isshin informed him nicely, pointing. "But don't use too much, or you're grounded!"

"Hn. I won't." Ichigo let his fork drop back onto the plate, where it made a loud CLANG noise. Isshin winced. "It's not a very big box." He stood up noiselessly and went back down the hallway, leaving his father and sisters to their dinner. Isshin was met with confused glances from the twins, who both had potatoes smeared around their mouths. The older man cracked a smile at this.

Ichigo pulled out the panties from his beach bag, immediately going red. They were pink. And lacy. And covered with grinning bunnies. Oh my God. He was holding some girl's underwear… whoa. The orange haired guy gulped and picked up the cardboard box he'd bought up at the shipyard this morning and folded the cover down, letting the undergarment drop soundlessly inside. The bunnies were staring Ichigo down, as if he didn't deserve to come in contact with them.

Just as Ichigo was getting ready to tape the box closed, he realized that it was a little rude to send something without writing a letter too… that was common courtesy… Ichigo sighed and pulled some notebook paper from his beech wood desk, and the ballpoint pen he was going to use for the address. He sat the paper on the floor and started with two simple words. _Dear Rukia… _wait, wouldn't _dear _sound too affectionate? He'd only met her today, after all. But didn't everyone write _dear _in their letters? Ichigo didn't know much about letters, so he just left that in there. Besides, he didn't feel like scratching it out either.

_--Well, here's your panties.--_

_Sorry I couldn't get them to you earlier but I didn't have the--_

_Maybe it's small consolation that I found them for you, Rukia--_

_I'm sorry the box is so cheap, it's just that-_

Ichigo growled and crumpled the piece of paper, throwing it so it bounced off the wall and behind his bed. Why the hell couldn't he write her a letter?! It couldn't be that hard. She was just a girl, a short little girl who wasn't really that threatening. So why was he having so much trouble? Rukia wouldn't care if he screwed up! She just probably wanted her underwear back, right?

_Dear Rukia, _

_Well, here they are. I'm just happy you're not mad I took them. Like I said before, I don't want people being upset, it makes me uncomfortable… so… you like bunnies, do you? They're okay. I like… cats myself. Thanks for not blowing up at me about this. And… if you do… need me to save something of yours again (and I'm not being a smart aleck, I swear), I'll be here._

_Sincerely,_

_Ichigo Kurosaki_

Ichigo looked down at his work. Hmm, not bad! He'd put some of that small talk crap in there, along with some nice reassurance. This was working out pretty well for his first letter.

"Ichi-nii," said a little voice. Ichigo looked down to see his little sister Yuzu, gazing over the box with big chestnut eyes. "Your friend… want bunnies? I got lots. Not real bunnies." She gave a little smile, and Ichigo was taken aback. Before he even got close to response, Yuzu toddled straight out of his bedroom. The young man glanced down at his letter, then at the bunnies. The more he thought about it, Rukia sort of reminded him of a bunny.

"Bunnies," Yuzu said suddenly, and Ichigo was shocked. In her arms, she held about fifteen small plush bunnies, and one larger one. In her palm was a pair of tiny earrings, adorned with white pearl rabbits. "You can have them, Ichi-nii. From me." She smiled again, and deposited the load in the box. "For your buddy."

"Thanks, Yuzu," Ichigo said, ruffling the honey blonde hair affectionately. "That was nice of you…" on the inside, he was unsure of what Rukia would think. Would she think he was a psycho for sending all this to her? Would she care at all? He tried to ignore these questions as he put the final piece of tape on the box. "Now go see what Dad's doing for me."

"'Kay," his little sister agreed, and hurried off to her father. Ichigo sighed and followed, realizing that he needed the carpenter paper now. He held the box in one arm and the pen in his hand; feeling unbalanced, Ichigo relieved himself of this burden by dumping it on the kitchen table, where he left it until his return with the roll of paper. It was a soft light blue, and Ichigo had to admit that he sort of liked it, though he would've preferred white. He put the paper under the box and began by wrapping it around. Wow, this wasn't working, it looked like crap. He undid the paper, not realizing that Isshin was silently laughing at his son's blunders.

"Ichigo, let your good old dad do it!" he said suddenly, which prompted a horrified look from Ichigo.

"What the hell—how long have you been watching me?!" Ichigo demanded, pointing an accusing finger his father's way. "You frickin' stalker!" he was trying to make sure this box wasn't see through—whew, he was safe. But damn it, Isshin still wasn't off the hook! "There's something wrong with you. I mean it." Although, he didn't object when his father came over in a flash and expertly wrapped the parcel, finishing up with a triumphant smirk.

"What do you say, Ichigo my son?" he had a sly look on his face.

Ichigo huffed out one of the most offensive phrases that had ever been established before replying. "Uh, thanks." He turned away and grabbed the package, turning away from his father. "Where are the overnight stamps?"

"Don't have any," Isshin said, smiling victoriously. "You've gotta take a trip to the post office."

"Damn you…" Ichigo slammed the door behind him, the frown more pronounced on his face.

**&**

"Good morning, Hisana," Byakuya said ascetically, coming slowly down the stairs to see his wife curled up on the couch with her book. The slight woman returned his greeting with a tired smile, closing the little book with ghostly fingers. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm well, thank you." She placed the book on a nearby end table, rising silently to her feet. "Did you sleep well?"

"Fairly," Byakuya replied. "The rain distracted me." He looked out the French window to the dew coated grass, which glistened with tidy perfection. "I don't believe I've seen Rukia or Akamori this morning."

"Rukia is at Orihime's," Hisana explained quietly, striding into the kitchen to take the teapot off the stove. A beautiful ceramic teapot, its tempered heat made Hisana like it more. "Akamori… I'm not quite sure where she is right now." Her violet eyes swept over to her husband, who suddenly seemed alert. "She's okay, Byakuya. Don't worry about her." She smiled again, but Byakuya grimaced. Akamori wasn't exactly a perfect young woman. She went to hundreds of parties, and hardly ever came back. At eighteen, she needed to look out for herself more.

"That child," Byakuya said. "She needs to learn about life. What do you suggest, Hisana? Reform classes?" he was totally serious as he looked at his elfin wife. She seemed appalled.

"What? No, she's just going through the freedom of being an adult. It'll pass," she assured him quietly. "Right now, she's probably on her way home."

"I hope you're right," Byakuya mused, staring at the door with an acrid expression. _Rukia is only fifteen and she is so much more mature… _"And I hope she hasn't engaged herself in any life altering situations."

"Probably not," Hisana assured him. "She may be out with a few friends."

"I'm going to check her room," Byakuya declared suddenly, his eyes on the large glass gun cabinet near the fireplace. He turned away and made his way up the staircase, breathing steadily as he did so. Akamori's door was the farthest from the steps, and he moved faster with each passing moment. With whitish fingers he slowly opened the door.

The sight that met his eyes was atrocious. There was Akamori, all right, but it wasn't only Akamori. A young man had pinned her against the wall, and the two were kissing fervently. He had bright reddish hair up on top of his head, the top of which was covered in tribal tattoo work. Akamori wore a black sweater and a white skirt, whilst everything the boy had on seemed to be made of leather. Byakuya's eyes widened as he recognized this man as his employee, Renji Abarai.

A second later the two broke apart, Akamori gasping for air. Renji had a triumphant look—until he saw Byakuya, that is. Then his brown eyes went slack and he seemed like he was watching a horror film. "Mr.—Mr. Kuchiki!" he gasped, letting a dazed Akamori fall against the wall for support. "Is this about my term reports? I was trying to turn them in yesterday, but Kira held me up again."

"No," Byakuya said, impossibly calm considering the situation. "This is about you fondling her, _boy." _He shot a downright demonic look at Akamori, who gave him a blank one in return. Renji seemed like he'd been struck by lightening.

"I can live my own life, thank you. I don't need you telling me how," Akamori snapped, her inky black hair curling over her bright orange eyes and giving her an eerie look.

"As long as you live here, you won't bring men into the house, particularly not men who work for me," Byakuya said, cutting daggers with his eyes. "Abarai, consider yourself terminated." He heard a sharp breath from Renji, who looked more horrified by the second.

"That isn't fair," Akamori said. "So you feel like punishing me by firing Renji. Such a telltale action." Byakuya had always been a bit surprised by how alike he and his older daughter were. "But it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. Sorry." She blinked once and turned to Renji. "Now, let's go."

"Go?" Byakuya scoffed. "Child, I am your father, and as such I will tell you where you _go_."

"No, you really won't, _Byakuya_. I'm eighteen, and no one has custody of me," she stated icily, and began to pile outfits into a small suitcase. "Tell Mom I said bye." She opened the glass door leading out onto her balcony and beckoned for Renji, who followed nervously. Akamori handed her bag to him and then let herself fall, all the while hanging onto the railing. She hitched her feet on the lattice vines.

"When you climb down that lattice, you can forget about ever seeing it again," Byakuya threatened. "And if you do come back, I will kill you." Those words did seem a bit harsh, but he felt deeply disrespected by his daughter and wanted to make her feel the iron-clad tribulations.

"Save the soap opera act, father. I hope you have a nice, boring life." And then she was gone, but Byakuya didn't see her crash into an ill tempered Rukia on the way down.

**&**

I hope you liked this, I really do! It's super short, I apologize  but it will be okay. :D please give me your opinion. Much love from Bella (me)


	3. Returning the Favor

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_Yeah well, I believe the world is burning to the ground. Oh well, I guess we're gonna find out_. –Matchbox Twenty

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Rukia yawned through the emptiness of her bedroom, not bothering to cover her mouth because no one was really watching. She turned over and tried to get comfortable, since she hadn't gotten any sleep at Orihime's last night. The redhead had been chattering all night about how handsome and dashing Rukia's savior had been. The dark haired maiden had gotten so sick of this, so she nailed Orihime in the head with a wire hanger. This caused her to tear up, and Rukia spent the entire night apologizing.

And then Akamori had run off with one of her father's underling workers. That had been sort of funny, up until the part where they had fallen on top of Rukia on her way in and almost suffocated her. Hisana had come outside soon after, and it was an extremely awkward moment. Rukia turned over again and hit her foot painfully on the bed frame. After crying out, she got slowly to her feet and was almost blinded by the stream of sunlight blazing through her window. "Uhm..." she looked down at her legs, which were a horrible beet red. Maybe all that sunscreen hadn't helped after all...

"Oh, you're awake," said the familiar voice of her mother Hisana Kuchiki, who stood in the doorway with a lethargic expression. "Good. You can help me with breakfast." She wore a blue silk robe, and in all her regal beauty Rukia wondered how people thought they were alike at all.

"Where's Father?" Rukia asked, rolling her eyes at the title. Byakuya had said that 'Dad' was disrespectful to his authority and she must call him one of two things: Father or Kuchiki-sama. Rukia had opted for father, because she didn't want to be categorized with those little rich girls you saw on television.

Hisana looked around the hallway, and then back at her younger daughter. "He took a walk at sunrise, and now he won't get out of bed. I think he misses your sister."

"Hn," Rukia said quietly, not really caring much. Byakuya had watched Akamori enough over the past ten years of her life; didn't _she_ ever get a turn? Could someone pay a little attention to insignificant Rukia for one day? "That's likely." She bit her lip.

"By the way. A package came this morning, addressed to you." Her mother held a medium sized blue box of no distinguishing patterns. "It was over nighted. Your father said to open it outside, in fear of explosions." The small woman furrowed her brow irritably. "I care for him very much, but I worry." She left the package on Rukia's polished black end table and departed, closing the door softly. Her daughter sighed and picked up the box discreetly, having no intention to open it outside, and began to slowly peel the paper off. It wasn't very expensive paper, which was good because that kind tended to be stubborn. The box had no return address, and that made her jump a bit. But who would want to bomb Rukia? She was basically a nice person.

Lifting the first flap, Rukia saw a small fluffy something staring at her. Her lips folded into an immediate smile. It was a gigantic stuffed bunny, with big eyelashes and a wide grinning mouth. It was made of polyester or something else soft and when she flipped it over, the word _CHAPPY _was written in large letters. Adorable! Rukia was eager to see more, so she just up and flipped the box over. Dozens of little, different colored bunnies rained to the floor, all of them bearing cheerful expressions. Rukia couldn't help but giggle. These were probably from her cousin Momo, who was aware of Rukia's bunny obsession. But when she had dumped the box over, a measly piece of paper had sashayed down onto the floor.

The handwriting was not Momo's, which slightly shocked Rukia. It was an untidy scrawl, like a young child. But she could still make it out. _Dear Rukia… _when she had finished, Rukia couldn't stop herself. She burst out laughing and hugged her giant bunny—it was so cute! How nice of Ichigo! But why? Rukia didn't care. All she wanted right now was this Chappy, in all its feathery cuteness. The petite girl gave it another hug and placed it on her bed, next to all the other stuffed rabbits that looked so worn by comparison. Byakuya had bought those years ago, but now he refused and told her she ought to be collecting more ladylike things, if she needed to collect anything.

Rukia got to her feet, a new spring in them. As soon as she had reached her door, a ring sprung up from the phone.

"Hi?" Rukia had never really been too smooth on the telephone, and there was no reason to start now.

"Rukia!" a sweet voice replied, weighed down with sugary glee. Rukia inwardly moaned; Orihime was a good friend, but every now and then she got to be a little too much. "Tatsuki and I are going to the museum today! You wanna come too?" Rukia could hear Tatsuki's voice in the background: _She probably isn't going to be allowed._

"Uhm. I need to play catch up on my sleep, 'Hime. Maybe some other time." She took a look at her Chappy, and had a feeling that her nap was going to be much more comfortable with it here.

"But they're giving out free popcorn, Rukia! You have to come!"

"I don't _have to_," Rukia grumbled. "You'll be fine without me." There was silence for a few minutes. "Orihime?" and then the line went dead. Rukia's face contorted; Orihime had hung up?! She wouldn't! It wasn't in her nature to hurt someone like that; she was too caring. The small girl sighed and put the phone noiselessly back onto the receiver, and made her way out the door for the second time. Her violet eyes burned with the sudden light and she cringed, ducking back into the doorway. She could hear her father's voice distantly, but couldn't make out what he could possibly be saying. Whatever, it wasn't important.

As soon as she had regained composure, Rukia ran downstairs at top speed like always; she liked to challenge herself, even if she sucked at every sport known to man. She stopped running in the kitchen and sat at the glassy table, where her mother addressed her firmly.

"You need to slow down, child. Don't give yourself a heart problem." Hisana poured her daughter a cup of coffee, in a cup that Rukia hadn't noticed before. The steaming drink curled into Rukia's sinuses, making her tremble. "What was in that package of yours?" Rukia immediately perked up at the mention of the bunnies.

"A present for my friend Ichigo," she said truthfully, a smile playing across her lips. "Stuffed bunnies."

"That was sweet. I've never met this Ichigo before; what's she like?" Hisana's eyes questioned her soundly, and after a second Rukia realized that her mother had spoken of Ichigo as a female.

"Uhm, nice. And uh… just moved to… Ecuador." That sounded extremely dumb, but there was no way that Rukia was letting her mother know about her new friend—err, acquaintance. Much less the fact that she was really a boy. "Her dad's in the military…" the Inner Rukia in her head gave her thumbs up. Inner Rukia was an embodiment of Rukia's best qualities all fused into one fictional entity that occasionally gave her advice. A bit weird, but Rukia felt comfortable with her Inner self there.

"Maybe you can go and visit her someday. I'd love to visit South America," Hisana suggested dreamily, leaning her face into the crook of her arm and gazing out the window. "I've heard from your father that it's really very—"

"Mom," Rukia said shakily, eyeing the screechy teapot that was now quivering with suppressed heat on the stove.

"Ah!" Hisana got out of la-la land and jumped to her feet, racing for the pot eagerly, "It's ready!"

"I think it's a little past ready," Rukia mumbled, sniffing the acrid smell of burnt liquid. "You should make another bag. I mean, if you're trying to cheer Father up—"

"He'll live," Hisana said, balancing a tea tray in her small hands with an erudite look, "And so will I, unless he keeps blabbering on about what a disappointment she is…" Rukia knew she was talking about Akamori again. The girl was gone! Couldn't they get over her for a _second_?!

"Mhm." Rukia gazed into the murky depths of her coffee. Scared of lumps in it, she pushed the caffeinated beverage to the other side of the table and stood up. It was now about six in the morning, which meant there was time to go and get Ichigo a gift in return.

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Ichigo dropped his chopsticks into the bowl listlessly, his scowl deepening as he got to his feet. A soccer ball lay hazardously on the floor near the television, and Ichigo wondered where Karin was. Maybe sleeping; she didn't get up and around very much, and all she did otherwise was cry. Both of them cried; Ichigo didn't. He grimaced and looked at his watch. Twelve o'clock noon glared back at him in bright red letters.

"Ichigo, I need you to watch your sisters for the day," came Isshin's sudden voice, and Ichigo bit his lip with disdain.

"Maybe I have plans too," he lied. "I have a life."

"Funny, son." Isshin chuckled, and then stood up from his seat at the otherwise uninhabited table. He was wearing his doctor's coat and had shaved; Ichigo could tell by several bandages that were plastered onto his father's chin. "I have to perform heart surgery on a fifty six year old, four hundred pound man this morning. Not something I can blow off, you see! Yuzu and Karin can't be by themselves."

"They can, Dad, they're pretty smart kids," Ichigo argued, pointing at the math sheets lying on the floor. Actually, the girls had only made childish scribbles with their pencils, but Isshin was proud even of that.

"You'll have fun!" his father insisted, pouting in a pathetic attempt at what was supposed to be cute and putting a hand on his son's shoulder. "Ichigo, make me proud of you!"

"I don't want you to be proud of me, I'm fine if you think I'm a total disappointment," Ichigo stated frankly, walking over to the pantry and picking up a box full of the blandest cereal ever made. "By the way, you haven't attacked me at all lately—" Ichigo was interrupted by a swift kick by his father, which he blocked by thrusting his palm onto it.

"Never be too careful! That was luck, sheer luck!"

"I was testing you," Ichigo informed him matter of factly as he poured his tasteless cereal into a glass bowl. "Anyway, get going, you don't want that lard to keel over with a heart attack." He smirked at the thought of the fat man falling, callously so. The door closed behind Isshin, and Ichigo was thankful that Yuzu and Karin were still asleep or they'd be running after him as usual. Hopefully they would sleep all day long.

The carrot top ate about half his cereal and then poured the soggy mixture into the garbage disposal, where it made dull thumping noises as it hit the cold, filthy bottom.

Ichigo watched the sodden flakes fall, and thought of the previous day. He wondered if Rukia had gotten the package containing her underwear and many other bunny-oriented items, and if she liked them. Well, she was probably happy, right? ... Ichigo didn't know... and yet he couldn't figure out why he even cared. She was a stupid midget and— a sudden knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and the orange haired man looked up. Isshin had probably forgotten his extra socks again.

However, when Ichigo opened the door, his father wasn't even close to who stood on the other side. It was the same midget he had just been thinking so critically about. The one with the black hair and bright blue eyes. Rukia Kuchiki. Today, she looked rather different. She wore a yellow sundress and a matching hat, adorned with a green ribbon. Her hair framed her face, bringing out its oval shape. Ichigo bucked his jaw at her.

"Oh, it's you," he said blankly. "Hey, bunny girl." Ichigo met her surprised glance with a healthy smirk, and it was just then that he noticed the box in her pale arms. It was off white with tiny holes strategically placed all over it. "What's that?"

Rukia gazed down at the box, and her hat fell slightly over her face, blocking sight of her features. "You got me a present, well actually several presents, and I wanted to return the favor."

"That's nice of you," Ichigo replied tritely, scratching his head as he surveyed the box. The holes weren't very big, and even they were lined with mesh cloth. He craned his neck ever so slightly, but Rukia was onto him so she whipped the box behind her back.

"You have to guess what it is before I give it to you." She gave a quirky smile, and Ichigo momentarily found himself distracted from the box's contents. He shook his head like a wet dog and scowled at her, regaining his previous condition in a flash. He was a worthy opponent for Rukia, but she was a pro at making someone long for something.

"It's a ... basket of soap and lotion crap," Ichigo guessed, knowing what girls usually dubbed appropriate gifts. The dark haired girl shook her head, and Ichigo realized she had dimples on her upper cheeks that gave her a youthful look. "Video game."

"You couldn't be farther from the answer." She tapped her fingers on the box, and Ichigo's frown intensified. What the hell was in there?

"Silverware. Wagon wheel coffee table. My own share of McDonald's stock. A tree house?" on every guess, Ichigo's voice got drier and Rukia seemed more amused. She just never cared whether or not he guessed correctly at all. What if he never guessed, huh? What would she do with whatever was in the box?

"Give up?" she asked finally, tilting her head to the side and inching slightly closer. Ichigo backed away and slammed his head into the doorframe; the carrot top cringed with pain as the midget laughed her head off. As soon as he'd regained his stamina and bravado, Ichigo stood up to leer at her.

"Depends. What'll happen to me if I do?" he gave a crooked grimace.

"Mmm, guess you're just going to find out." Rukia shrugged and brought the box back around between them, slowly putting her fingers on the lid's rim. Ichigo's amber eyes widened dramatically, making him look something like L from Death Note when he saw what the box contained: a small, fluffy orange kitten.

It looked up with huge sapphire eyes, gleaming with the innocence of a newborn. Its small pink nose was moist, and it looked a bit frightened. Ichigo couldn't exactly blame the little guy; he'd be upset too if he'd been shoved into a world full of bright lights, weird people and dogs. Well, if Ichigo were a cat. Which he wasn't.

"A cat?" he finally managed to ask after a few minutes. It slowly hit him just before Rukia explained.

"In your letter, you said you liked cats. So I got you one." She gave a small smile.

"How'd you get the money for this?" Ichigo asked, curiosity biting at him.

"Savings bonds," Rukia replied, looking off into the distance. "My grandparents aren't too picky with what happens to their money."

"Yeah, well, thanks again," Ichigo said, stretching his long arms skyward in an attempt to distract her from his gratitude. He'd had a cat back when he was younger; his name had been Ryuusuke. A small little unhealthy thing, the kitten had passed away when it was three.

"Anytime. Just as long as you don't call me a midget."

"No deal." Ichigo smirked.

"Huh?" Rukia's navy eyes widened with disbelief. "Someone does something for you and you continue to make fun of them!? Immature little…"

"Oh, I'm little?" Ichigo reached down to cast Rukia's head with his palm. Surprisingly, the large, roughly made straw sun hat was soft. "Shrimp."

"I prefer midget to shrimp… I actually prefer neither. But if you have to call me something…"

"I'll say dwarf?" Ichigo suggested, confused.

"That's just as cruel as 'midget'!" Rukia bit her lip and shoved Ichigo's hand off. "I don't quite understand you."

"That's my line," Ichigo retorted, his features hardening as Rukia glared icily at him. She had big round eyes that matched her face with a small nose and mouth. "Now why don't you go bug someone else? You had better not have woken my sisters up."

"They're just babies," Rukia said innocently, giving a smile.

"They're little hellions when they wake up. Trust me," Ichigo advised, glancing warily in the direction of the hallway. "And my dad's got no clue, so I have to deal with it."

"…Sucks," Rukia said after a minute. Ichigo noticed her eyes were on the portrait of the woman on the kitchen wall. He shoved himself into her line of sight and grabbed the box, giving a nervous look as he meandered to get her out of his house.

"Well uh, thanks a lot for the cat and, I'll see you when school starts up, right?"

"Yeah. The place is co-ed this year, so the boys don't have to go to that old school that's like fifty miles away. Pretty convenient." She put her hand in her chin and pondered for a moment, and Ichigo got her attention with an impatient huff. Pink crept through her cheeks like wildfire. "Oh, I spaced out again!" she chuckled merrily, and Ichigo looked disturbed by this sudden change of attitude.

"Just go!" he finally hissed, baring his teeth. He could hear Yuzu's distant voice. Rukia pursed her lips.

"Okay, well, see you!" she said, readjusting her hat and walking out. Ichigo watched her retreating back as the twins started to wail, and he slammed the door ferociously. Darn her!

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Rukia walked silently down the street, her effervescent dress bathed in scorching sunrise colors. It was already warm, even early. It was with this sunrise that she wondered about her sister. Where was Akamori, anyway? As much as she hated her, Rukia was still a little on edge about her whereabouts.

And that poster in Ichigo's kitchen. That lady had been so pretty. Maybe she was from a magazine cover that Ichigo's dad liked, because she couldn't be a normal person. It was impossible. And why had Ichigo been so defensive of it? Rukia didn't mind at all if his father liked to keep posters of women in plain sight. His dad was probably a very nice person.

"Rukia?" said a familiar voice. Rukia didn't turn around, but a smile found its way across her face.

"Hey, Orihime," she said, turning around to wave. "What are you doing out this early?"

"I had to drop some papers at town hall for Sora. He's not feeling too good; I think those anchovies were undercooked. He says we're gonna get some kind of settlement out of Domino's." She brandished the legal documents at Rukia, who grinned in spite of herself.

"Suing them? Isn't that a bit much for food poisoning?" the elfin girl looked up at her taller friend, whose gray eyes were limpid. "Especially for a pizza delivery…?"

"It's my brother, Rukia! Nothing's too much for him!" she insisted loyally, balling her hand into a fist and clapping it to her heart.

"Oh." Rukia bristled at her friend's statement. "S-Sorry, 'Hime."

"It's all right," Orihime had always been forgiving to her closest friends… even to strangers. "Anyway, what are you doing up at sunrise?"

"I had to pick up my silk underwear from Ichigo," Rukia said tritely, a sense of sugary lies on her conscience as she looked at Orihime. "He said they'd been a little damaged by the pool water, but I didn't really mind."

"Hmmm…" Orihime gazed off into the clouds, which were thickening more and more as the day began. "I think he likes you, Rukia."

Rukia did a snappy double take. "Of course he does. We're friends." Orihime let out a giggle, to which her friend responded with frown. "Orihime, he's just my friend and nothing else! That's all!" she pushed the brim of her hat down over her deep blue eyes and continued along the hillside. Her head was spinning. Ichigo didn't like her. Hah! He hated her. Sometimes she wondered if Orihime needed to be medicated for the things that went on in that crazy mind of hers.

Rukia walked for a while before she came upon a large iron gate. It was jet black with roses twisting eerily up the top, and they all met in the center to a large letter _K._ Rukia pulled her key out and turned it in the master lock before shoving the ancient gate open and clicking it shut again. The large white brick mansion glared down at her, as if she weren't worthy of such lineage. Frowning at it, Rukia heaved open the front door to see an empty entrance hall.

"Hello!" she called into the cavernous house, but everyone was apparently holed up in their bedrooms (Hisana, Byakuya and the servants), so she just slipped off her sandals and ran up the marble staircase to the east wing, which consisted of five rooms: Akamori's former room, her own, and two bathrooms belonging to each. There was also an entertainment room there. Rukia was glad her parents lived in the west wing; otherwise they'd be bugging her 24/7.

A distant rumble of thunder caused Rukia to emit a shriek and heave breaths as she opened her door to reveal her mostly blue and black bedroom, and had to grin when she saw the giant Chappy waiting just where she'd left it. Ichigo was so nice to give that to her.

She rested on the foot of her bed for a minute, listening to the soft footfalls of rain on the thirsty summer world. This was the part of summer she enjoyed most, the wet and warm part. Everything seemed to be at peace during this time. Rukia pulled her soft blue blanket up around herself and sang a little song her parents used to sing together as a lullaby.

_Daddy's little girl… paints the world with her magic wand_

_Mommy's little child breathes new light to the morning time for me, and though we're apart her thoughts follow me_

_When I come home, Rukia smiles with the dawn, Rukia smiles and she radiates a glow around her halo_

_When she plays, Rukia smiles, on a summer day, Rukia smiles_

_A new day, Rukia smiles_

_Da da da, da da da, da da da_

_Daddy's little girl ties a ribbon around my heart_

_Mommy's little child waves goodbye to the ocean tide that sweeps me_

_Though we're apart, she's a part of me_

_Rukia smiles with the dawn, Rukia smiles and she radiates a glow around her halo_

_When she plays, Rukia smiles, on a summer day, Rukia smiles_

_A new day, Rukia smiles_

_Da da da, da da da, da da da_

_When I come home, Rukia smiles with the dawn, Rukia smiles and she radiates a glow around her halo_

_When she plays, Rukia smiles, on a summer day, Rukia smiles_

_A new day-ay, Rukia smiles_

_When the days have gone grey, nothing's wrong when Rukia smiles…_

Her mother had the prettiest voice back then, like the beauty of church bells. Her father had seemed wonderful with a deep voice like a chorus. Now, they only spoke quietly and sternly to her. Rukia had never tried singing around anyone else besides her mother, who always insisted she had the voice of an angel. But all mothers had to say that or their daughters would get upset. Her father had never really been too sweet about the truths of life, he'd been blunt and callous. Well, maybe that was how it needed to be. Maybe Rukia needed to know things for what they were.

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"Would you like some tea?" said Hisana's soft voice from across the room. "It's beginning to get cold, my love."

Byakuya shook his head. "No, thank you." He exhaled and opened a fresh package of paper from the shelf.

"Another letter to work?" Hisana inquired, her small lips reproachful. "It's only a termination, Byakuya. Not everyone needs to know of such things."

"I'm as aware of these things as you, if not more," he stated softly, holding the pen and gazing at the paper. "I wasn't writing a letter to the company. I was writing an angry letter to myself, and then disposing of it. It's a way to cope that I haven't quite tried yet."

"What emotions does it relieve?" Hisana was curious.

"Fury, envy, infatuation. Your strongest emotions." He sat still as a stone and did not make one mark upon the paper. "I worry I'm getting too emotional lately, what with my reaction to Akamori and such."

"She isn't the problem, I don't think. I told you, it's just freedom issues. She'll calm eventually, like you and I." The slight woman sipped her tea. "Besides, I don't see anything wrong with it, if she's happy."

"Happy…" Byakuya grimaced, and looked out at the rain.

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"Ah! It was a success!" Isshin said, bursting in the door with his doctor's coat under his arm. "He's gonna be fine!"

"I'll call the headline news." Ichigo rolled his eyes.

"Daddy's home!" Yuzu called, throwing herself on the floor at her father's toes and hugging his ankle. "I missed you Daddy!"

Isshin grinned down at her. "Yuzu bug! I missed you! Where's Karin, hm?"

"Sleeping," Ichigo said as he was cutting Yuzu's chicken sandwich into small, eatable pieces. "Anyway, I should probably get to bed." He let the fork fall on the plate with a huge noise.

"Son!" Isshin whined, throwing the coat unceremoniously onto the couch. "It's only seven o' clock!" his brown eyes swept over Ichigo quickly. "Are you sick?"

"I'm just tired," Ichigo dismissed his father's suspicions with a wave over his shoulder as he started down the hallway, sighing. Inside his closet was the kitten, hidden in its box. Isshin would come to know about it eventually, wouldn't he? Either way, it was a big stretch for Rukia to buy him a living animal. She sure was something… for a little dwarf.

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Author's note: I really hope you liked this chapter! Whew, 4500 words! I didn't know I was capable of doing that, but I had a lot of time on my hands... My friend and I plan this story verbally over the phone, so a lot of this I made up as I went along. I had to cut many things out for the sake of time. Originally, I had Orihime running back and forth across town between Rukia and Ichigo's houses to deliver the gifts, but I needed some more one on one contact between the two so I had to delete that. It's fun to portray Byakuya in these stories, and Hisana is easy because one doesn't really know about her personality. Akamori wasn't in this chapter at all, mostly because I can't remember what happened to her right after her departure. Well, I would definitely love some reviews! All types of opinion are welcome, and please be specific! Until next time,

XSilverWingsx

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	4. Lazy Afternoons

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_Sing with me, sing for the year. Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear. Sing with me, if it's just for today; maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away. _–Aerosmith

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, though if I did would make Ichigo smile all the time because he deserves to.

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"Every day should be like this," Orihime mused quietly as she pulled another sticky Popsicle from its wrappings. "Spending time with your two best friends!" she clapped a hand on Rukia's shoulder, causing the smaller girl to squeal in pain. "Oh, I'm sorry! I forgot about your sunburn."

"It's fine," Rukia insisted as she bit down hard on her tongue for some release. "What really gets me about this is the fact that you two are perfectly fine and you didn't wear any sunscreen at all." She eyed their stark white skin with envy, and then glanced at her crimson arms. How unfair of Mother Nature.

"Anyway, how did your meeting with Ichigo go?" Orihime questioned, her eyes alight with mischief. Rukia looked over with renewed vigor.

"Huh?" she blundered at the sudden mention of her new friend's name. "Oh, um… it was fine." It had taken her a moment to recall the morning's events.

"Did you kiss him?" Orihime giggled, and her red hair swayed bouncily as her personality.

Rukia bristled immediately, her features dramatically edged. "No way! Ichigo is a nice person and all, but he's just too… he's obnoxious!" she insisted, only to prompt smirks from the two girls. This was just like one of those moronic chick flicks where the guy and the girl start off as enemies and then immediately get together. How pathetic…"_What!?"_

"This is the classic scenario. She says, 'You're the most obnoxious man I've ever met', and then… then they fall madly in love!" Orihime said dreamily, gazing toward the sky with a romantic expression. Rukia could not believe the nerve of her! Just because she and Ichigo were friends, her other friends were insisting it would evolve into more! Well, these friends could not be more _wrong!_

"That's not the classic scenario, Orihime. You just think so because you watch too many soap operas," Tatsuki put in, tossing her Popsicle stick into the trashcan by her closet door.

"I'm only fifteen years old and my female intuition is already razor sharp!" (**A/N**: Yes, that's a real Orihime line. I felt like putting it in there.) "Ichigo likes you; I can see it in his big, beautiful brown eyes!"

"Well then, you need glasses," Rukia countered, "Because Ichigo's eyes are not beautiful." They were just amber colored, a common eye color among red haired people. Some blonde people even had them. So what was so special about Ichigo? Nothing, he was just an overly tall cat-loving person who saved peoples' lost undies.

Orihime gave an over-exaggerated gasp, so heavy that her face went an alarming shade of violet. "How could you say such a thing? Everything about Ichigo is beautiful!" she seemed to be imagining him as she stared at a fluffy cloud far off in the distance.

"'Hime, if you like him so much why do you keep trying to stick _Rukia_ with him?" Tatsuki asked incredulously as she tied up her Nikes.

"Because he likes her!" Orihime replied, balling her hand into a fist and holding it. "I'll do whatever I can to get them to be a couple! I'll work harder than I've ever worked!"

"Be prepared to never retire, because of one thing: I. Do. Not. Like. Ichigo. Kurosaki," Rukia said firmly, reaching for more lotion to coat on her already slathered arms. She had only met Ichigo two days ago, and Orihime was already trying to set her up with him. Well, it was Orihime after all, and with Orihime there had to be friends with a strong patience resolve—unlike Rukia, but she would just have to deal with the redhead's soundly romantic point of view.

"Fine…" her taller friend reclined in a soft leather chair that sat just beneath Tatsuki's plate glass window. "Maybe you and Ichigo shouldn't be together."

"Thank you," Rukia sighed, happy that her friend had finally given in. "Finally you're making some sense."

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Rukia. She'll change her mind in fifteen seconds," Tatsuki advised smartly as she began to stuff her gym bag with water bottles. "Anyone wanna go for a run?"

"I could go for one," Rukia said with a shrug. At least she would get away from her psycho matchmaker of a best friend. She grabbed her black Reeboks and slipped them on; thankfully, she had bought the ones that didn't have laces. Tatsuki was at the front door already when Orihime was screeching.

"Wait! Wait, I need my shoes on too!"

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As the three turned the corner of Samichi and Minami, Rukia stopped for a moment to catch her breath along the sidewalk. Orihime trailed about a hundred yards behind her, because she was "top-heavy" and was not accustomed to long distance running.

Rukia didn't like running very much either, but she needed some stress release. Tatsuki was a track star, so naturally she hadn't stopped to breathe since they'd begun. The shortest of the three, Rukia would be the slowest if she had anything… in the same area where Orihime's body was… err, plentiful.

"We're heading over by Urahara's!" Tatsuki shouted, "I have to pick up Ururu!" Tatsuki's cousin worked part time for Mr. Urahara, a lazy and rather weird shopkeeper who always wore a wide rimmed hat with green and white stripes.

A moment later, the three arrived in front of the shop, and all the blinds were down as usual. Urahara was a hermit in all senses. Tatsuki was the first to approach the door, but before she could even reach the knob, a burly man in a blue apron greeted her.

"Tatsuki! We've been wondering how you've been!" Tessai exclaimed, and Rukia was surprised by his kindness. She had expected him to be the silent type who could snap your neck in two seconds.

"Hey, Tessai," she said casually. "Ururu here?" she craned her neck to see behind Tessai into the store. A distant voice reached them, a persuasive businesslike one. Mr. Urahara held a phone to his ear, the chord entwined throughout his thin fingers.

"Hi, Tatsuki," Ururu said in her small voice from behind her long black bangs, appearing suddenly from behind the door. "I'm coming, okay?" her big blue eyes were always timid.

"Fine," Tatsuki said.

"Well, Ichigo, it depends on what your dad thinks about it. Yeah, I know the gas prices are skyrocketing. You don't even have a learner's permit! Call me back later or stop by the store. Either one is fine. No need to get so irritated! I'm just a shopkeeper, cut me some slack!" Urahara said, scratching his chin. "Okay, that'll be good, I suppose. Bye Ichigo." Rukia heard the click of the receiver being put back onto the base. "Hi, Ms. Arisawa!" he turned to the three of them with an ear-to-ear smile.

"Mr. Urahara, hi." Tatsuki ran a hand through her hair. "I'm here to get Ururu."

"Her shift's not over," Mr. Urahara glanced at his watch, "for another half hour… but I guess I could always make Jinta work overtime…" he seemed to be pondering this deeply as Ururu picked up her blue backpack and stood beside her cousin. "Ah, well. See you later!" he winked at the group, and then turned around. Rukia shrugged.

"We should go now, guys." She glanced around at the many dark boxes that inhabited the back of the shop with a suspicious expression. "My idiot dad is going to freak about me being here…"

"Who _is _your dad, then?" said Mr. Urahara, appearing out of nowhere. Rukia jumped and looked over her shoulder so fast that she almost cricked her neck. Reeling from the sudden question, it took a little while for her to remember her answer.

"Oh! Uh, Byakuya Kuchiki, s-sir…"

Mr. Urahara's pale face fell into surprise for a moment before cracking into a grin. "Ha-ha… I went to high school with him…" he laughed silently for a moment, as if remembering some long-forgotten joke. "He was a good friend of mine, seriously. So hot-headed, you could barely get the guy to sit down."

Rukia did a triple-take. "Which Byakuya Kuchiki are _you _talking about?"

"The seventeen year old one," Urahara chuckled. "So he's different now?"

"Yeah," the three said at the same time. Rukia went red, vines of fiery embarrassment ripping through her face. Was her dad that bad? Sure, he was a total freak about honor, pride and the usual stereotypical stuff, but…

"I showed up, Hat n' Clogs, now give me my money," said a strong, clear familiar voice. Rukia turned around to see Ichigo Kurosaki in a white tank top and jeans. A black hoodie was hanging over his shoulder as well. He wore boots on his feet and a demanding expression on his face. Rukia didn't see how he could wear black jeans in the middle of June, and was even more surprised to see him again. This was her first time seeing him in person since that day at the pool, and they were already friends. Ichigo was showing up everywhere. At the pool, his letter in the mail, here at Urahara store…

Mr. Urahara jumped. "Oho, Ichigo! I didn't expect you to come five minutes after I hung up!" surprise colored his otherwise measly voice as he clapped a hand to his forehead. Ururu cowered at the sight of Ichigo, someone easily three feet taller than her. She hid behind Tessai with a terrified expression, and Rukia was immediately infuriated.

"I didn't expect you to owe this much money, damn it!" Ichigo said, pounding his fist into the doorframe and missing Rukia's face by an inch.

"Excuse me, watch it!" Rukia said icily, frowning. Ichigo finally took notice of her, and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Dwarf? What're you doing here?" he asked innocently with a smirk.

"None of your business… and why are you harassing Urahara?" she demanded, rounding on the much taller man. "He didn't do anything to you!"

"He owes us fifteen hundred dollars!" Ichigo barked, his eyes stabbing Urahara. "Can't pay the rent this month unless he coughs it up _today_!"

"Oh, so scaring the guts out of Ururu is just a bonus!?" Rukia snapped, indicating the frightened girl. Ichigo's expression softened ever so slightly, and he bit his lip. "You idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot!" she was facing Urahara now. "Why didn't you pay Ichigo's family back?!"

"I forgot to! What's a man to do…?" Urahara said quietly, striding across the shop to a tackle box that rested on the counter. With one swift movement, he pulled a rusty silver key from his pocket and unlocked the box, which swung open to reveal piles of money. He pulled out fifteen hundred-dollar bills and counted them out, and came back over to the door. Ichigo did not hesitate to snatch the money.

"Finally," he said blankly, shoving the cash into his pocket. "I'm watching you." He gave Urahara one last grimace before slamming the shop door behind him. There was a long silence, Ururu standing behind Tessai, Rukia's blue eyes big as she stared at the door, Tatsuki looking solemn and Orihime wearing a similar expression as her best friend's cousin.

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Rukia didn't waste another moment here. With one backward glance, she opened the door and walked out after Ichigo, who was already about halfway down the street. His hands rested casually in his pockets and he looked straightforward into the day, which was growing overcast.

She had to jog to keep up with his long strides. Soon Rukia was walking alongside Ichigo, who was either indifferent to her presence or simply ignoring it. His brows were furrowed, like they always were, and she copied. Maybe he wouldn't be so pissy with her if she tried to be more like him.

The clouds grew darker by the minute, and Rukia realized that Ichigo was not on the way to his house. He had taken an alternate route down a narrower street through the trees, and out of sheer curiosity, she followed him. As the forest got thicker, Rukia walked behind Ichigo due to the narrow path. His shock of bright orange hair deeply contrasted with the earthy green trees that stood high above them.

The black haired maiden shivered as the drops of rain began to fall down off the leaves. They stung her raw, red skin with a burning intensity. "Mmfh…" she breathed in discomfort. Every second the rain grew harder as she walked on through the humid afternoon. The moment fortified as Ichigo stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, globules of water dripping from the spikes of his hair onto his face. His hand darted from his pocket to his shoulder, where with quick fingers he grabbed and then thrust the jacket at Rukia.

"Put it on. You look like a drowned rat," he said.

"Thanks," Rukia said sarcastically, slipping the overlong shirt over her shoulders. She was immediately incased in a warm little shell and a nice aroma. It was like shaving cream and freshly mown grass, a boy smell. "You're gonna die out here in that tank top."

"I'll be fine," he insisted, turning back around to continue through the forest. Rukia gave a small smile and followed, wondering where Ichigo's destination could possibly be. He didn't seem to mind the fact that she was following.

"So why did Urahara borrow money from you?" she wondered aloud, trying to make casual conversation. It was better than walking in silence, right?

"God knows. The freak probably had unpaid prostitu—err, women," Ichigo said, amusement obvious in his voice. "I don't really care. The only thing I wanted was my money back, I don't even wanna know what he did with it in the beginning." The orange haired man stretched his arms skyward before continuing, "What were you doing there, anyway?"

"Tatsuki's cousin is Ururu, the little girl who almost peed herself when you walked in," Rukia replied quietly.

"Yeah, but what am I supposed to do? I can't control my height." The water from his face dripped from his neck, molding all his muscles into a precise sculpture. Drops fell down into his already skintight shirt, welding the fabric tightly to his body. Rukia could see every line, every part of his physique. Her ankles b and it wasn't because of the rain.

"That's—that's true, but you can control your temper, Ichigo." Rukia rolled up the sleeves on the jacket once. Twice. Three times. God, he had long arms. Ichigo said nothing as they approached a little clearing where the rainfall thickened profoundly.

A wrought iron gate stood there, and it was slightly absurd in this rural environment. It was ancient and a golden sign with a message engraved in cursive was welded to the center bar. _St. Younha Memorial Graveyard. _With thin fingers, Ichigo pushed the gate open and held it. Rukia wondered brainlessly why for a moment until he gestured for her, slightly irritated.

_Stupid, stupid! _Inner Rukia snapped as she followed with a blank expression for the gate to creak closed behind her. Ichigo went left among the graves and walked soundlessly among them, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Rukia looked at the ground until he immediately stopped in his tracks in front of a tall grave. It was a dark stone, with a lighter colored plaque on it.

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—_**Masaki Kurosaki—**_

_April 2, 1974—__August 31, 2002_

Beloved mother and wife

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Rukia's breath caught in her throat as she read this grave. Ichigo's face was stone cold as he stared at it, raindrops causing his hair to hang damply over the sides of his head. His jaw was locked in a rigor-mortis, superglue like mold and his eyes were darker than their usual amber color as they were locked indefinitely on the grave.

"Why'd you come here today?" he demanded, his voice awfully hard and callous before he turned back to Rukia with daggers in his eyes.

"I was wondering if you were okay," Rukia said, pokerfaced. "You seemed mad."

"I was mad," he growled. "I _was_, so what?"

"When someone's upset, it's… human nature to want to help," she replied, her voice growing firmer with each passing second. "I thought you knew that."

"What if the other person doesn't want your effin' help?" Ichigo snapped, baring his teeth. "Did you ever consider that, Little Miss Psychiatrist?"

"Hey! That's not something you say to a girl!" she scoffed, messing with a piece of her hair that had stuck to her forehead because of the rain. Rukia stood up and suddenly felt like a giant, like she was equal to Ichigo.

"Chivalry died, so don't count on any Romeo stuff! I'm not that kind of guy so just get your nose out of my business!"

"I don't…" for once, Rukia was out of smart little quips to retort with. It was like time was going to end as she shrank back to her normal height and sighed in defeat. "You know… I don't mind if you don't want my help. It's okay." She curved her pale lips into a whitewashed smile, as Ichigo deadpanned right back at her.

"What?" he said with much emphasis.

"I said that I don't mind. Do whatever you want to and I won't…"

"You're not gonna bug me about it?" Ichigo questioned, raising one eyebrow at his newest friend.

"Within reason." She gave a kind smile. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." The rain was still pounding the trees around them, but Rukia didn't care right now. There was a shared silence where they both stared off into different directions; Rukia off into the forest, Ichigo at his mother's grave.

"How did she die?" Rukia wondered aloud, scorning herself inside a second later. Ichigo's shoulders tensed slightly, but otherwise his somber expression did not change. He pressed his lips together for a second before shoving his hands back inside his pockets.

"My mom, she used to take me to karate at the dojo, right? Back when I was nine."

Rukia's heart leapt as he decided to tell the story. "The one down by Hariri's Restaurant?"

"Yeah. The first person I ever fought was your best friend."

"Orihime?" Rukia asked in disbelief, trying to imagine Orihime fighting anyone with an amazed expression. She got a mental image of the redhead bloody and crying on a stretcher and turned back to Ichigo with an astounded look.

Ichigo's lips quivered into a smile. "No, Tatsuki."

"Oh." Rukia went pink. "Yeah. She's aggressive. How'd that work out for you?" Rukia was really beginning to get into this story, even though Ichigo had barely even started. She took a seat on a dead tree stump nearby that was covered in leaves.

"She… kicked my ass," Ichigo admitted, looking down at the ground. "It embarrassed me. I was a little kid then, so naturally I started to cry."

"I could understand that," Rukia said sympathetically. "Once I accidentally used Tatsuki's baton trophy to unclog my toilet and she put me in the hospital for a month."

Ichigo looked up with an amused expression. "Really?

"It did look a lot like a plunger to a ten year old girl." She bristled at the memory.

"Anyway," he continued, his voice dropping a little lower. "My mom picked me up this one day from the dojo. I remember exactly what she wore that day: a blue shirt, and blue pants with grey stripes." He stopped for a second to swallow. "We walked home that day, and I was hungry. I told my mom about it, and she smiled and said we could stop to eat. About halfway there we noticed some people fighting over a pack of smokes. My mom and I passed by there, and I remember… hearing the gunshot and my mom yelling. That bullet was gonna hit me but she ran in front of me and took it herself." He stopped short on _self, _and Rukia's stomach felt like it was going to do The Worm.

"She took it for you," Rukia said quietly, her eyes big as she realized how little she had actually known about Ichigo. Before he had just been the butthole who yelled and never smiled. Now he was the boy who had lost his mother and had never gotten over it.

"I walked around town for three days after the police came and said they were taking me 'back.' I didn't know they actually meant to go home, and without my mom, I felt like someone was out to get me then, or hurt me because it was my fault."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I was the one who insisted we stop," he said stiffly, his face growing angrier.

"Ichigo, it was not _your fault. _These things happen and there's nothing to do about it! Stop being so… so…" she could not find a word to describe it. "I think… you care too much about what other people think."

"I don't give a rat's ass," Ichigo said. "Why does everyone think there's some hidden agenda? I'm me and that's that. So what if you…" his amber eyes seemed troubled as he looked off back onto the trail from whence they'd came, his lips forming a hard line as Rukia stared relentlessly at him. "Look."

"Huh?" Rukia had been paying attention to his hair and wondering why it stood up so much.

"I'm going home." His tone was surprisingly placid. Rukia shuddered from the rain and sank deeper into the warm jacket as she listened to the soft sound of his retreating footsteps.

The rain clearly was not going to stop tonight. She glanced once more at Masaki's grave before heaving a sigh and following her orange haired friend back through the thick foliage for the second time this evening.

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Rukia slid the door open slowly, noiselessly to her again deserted home. Her parents were definitely up in the west wing, and Akamori didn't live here anymore. It was like a feverish, lonely existence in this house. Rukia clamped her hands to the ends of her hair and attempted to wring out any stray water; a huge puddle was created on the floor. _I'm surprisingly absorbent_, she thought pleasantly.

Within the fireplace walls, red-hot flames bathed the carpet in a tepid pool of heat. She ran her fingers along it and they stung slightly from their frozen temperature. Nevertheless, it still felt nice.

"You're home," said an acerbically sharp voice, echoing from the kitchen. Rukia turned to see her father Byakuya Kuchiki, who wore a black suit and his glasses at five in the afternoon. He sat at the table with paper and a pencil, which seemed to be under dangerous pressure in his strong fingers.

"Yes," Rukia said simply, bringing her knees up to rest against her chest and rested her chin on them, relaxing in the spectrum of heat the fireplace siphoned. "Did you already have dinner?"

"No, your mother isn't well. She's ordering Chinese or something of the like," he said, his hand suddenly moving gracefully across the paper. Byakuya had just begun to seem peaceful when he looked up suddenly. "I didn't buy that shirt. Where did you get it?" he questioned, his eyes on Ichigo's jacket. Rukia did not realize that he was speaking to her for a moment there.

"Oh! Um, it's Orihime's." What a stupid lie! She could have at least said it was Ryou's. Ryou was a girl in Rukia's class who was at least 6'3. She was a track star. "She let me borrow it because of the rain."

"Orihime has definitely grown immensely over the past week," Byakuya eyed the jacket, and Rukia took in his face. It was paler than usual. "Where is your other shirt, the one you were wearing before?"

"It's under this one," she replied, glad that she could come up with a good excuse. Needless to say, he wouldn't be too happy with her borrowing Ichigo's clothes.

"Hmm…" Byakuya turned back to the paper he was writing. "Go and see your mother for a bit. She has been worried." He set the pencil down and picked up a glass of water that sat nearby, taking a swig from it and stood as he did so. Rukia realized that everyone in her family had a perfect body at this moment—except for herself.

Byakuya was tall and thin, but had sculpture like muscles and a perfect face with hard, imperial features. He had a straight, thin nose and a thin upper lip. He had long black hair, the one thing that suggested any lenience about his personality. Akamori was a younger female version of her father, but with brown eyes and darker skin. She was a bit rash and indecisive, though, unlike him. Hisana wasn't tall, but she wasn't a midget like Rukia. Her face was oval and her features were small, the appearance Byakuya preferred in women. Maybe he had a self-hate complex. But what was there to hate? He came from a rich family and had a beautiful wife who basically worshipped him.

Rukia stretched her legs by climbing the stairs; they were a little stiff from shuffling behind Ichigo in the forest. She walked past her room and Akamori's to a pair of double doors that were each engraved with a large K, like many other things in the house. She knocked.

"Come in, child," said her mother's quiet voice.

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Akamori fiddled with a loose thread on her shirt as the silent car ride went on, not wanting to look up because she was ashamed. Renji had seen her awful father and his narrow-minded Noble family nonsense, and he probably regretted ever going out with her now.

Today she wore a pair of worn old blue jeans and a black sweater, worn in mourning for her previous life in the Kuchiki family. Hisana, Byakuya and Rukia were behind her now.

"So do you want me to torch his house?" said Renji's voice from the driver's seat, a hint of amusement coloring it. "I would."

"I don't want to be an accomplice to murder. But thank you, Renji," Akamori said quietly as she lay across the back seat, her pale lids resting lightly over her cognac eyes. "Anyway, there has to be a way to get my stuff over to your house for free."

"What about your sister?" Renji suggested as he turned onto the interstate; the pair of shark teeth hanging from the rearview mirror jingled. "You said she never has anything to do, why don't we ask her?"

"She won't work for free, I can tell you that much," Akamori informed him icily, resting her face in the crook of her arm. "I've got fifty bucks in my back pocket."

"There you go," Renji said, pleased. "My cousin could help us out some too." He looked at his girlfriend's furrowed brow in the mirror with a soft grin.

"I guess. Who is this cousin?" Akamori grumbled as she tried to get comfortable on the rough fabric of the seats.

"He's just a kid, but he's pretty strong for an obnoxious little…" he broke off as another driver pulled into the lane in front of him. "Anyway, his name's Ichigo. Hire him."

"Ichigo and Rukia. Got it."

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Finally! Forty six hundred words again! Well, I am happy because my story gets huge! I love it! Anyway, I hope you liked this and stuff; it was very hard keeping them in character! Byakuya is extremely difficult. Thanks to all my reviewers so far: **rukiaichigo15chappy, Tituba3, Berry M., **and** bleachfan. **You people are all awesome, and I'll review your stories in return! I'll try and keep the chapters coming along. I'm rambling again… well, until next time,

xSilverWingsx


	5. A Midsummer Night's Dream

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She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_ I'm looking at you through the glass; don't know how much time has passed. All I know is that it feels like forever, but no one ever tells you that forever feels like home. _–Stone Sour

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Rukia moaned as the many different vegetables of dinner churned in her already angry tummy. She hadn't eaten anything besides that since the Popsicle this morning, and it had proved to be a horrendous combination. She now lay pathetically on her bed, waiting for the nausea to pass. It was three AM.

Dinner had been a quiet affair that evening. Her mother slept and slept because she was sick, so it was just Rukia and her painfully reserved father, who just sat there and ate with no expression or attempt at conversing with his distant daughter. Akamori was usually the one to shake up the conversation and pull her stoic family out of their near constant emotional funks, but she was no longer here and it couldn't be helped.

The dark haired girl sighed and shifted over onto her back, hoping maybe that would take some pressure off her disturbed stomach. Instead it gave an uncomfortable lurch and its owner moaned, suspicious of her own misfortune. Perhaps Byakuya had been feeling insane and had poured cyanide in her spicy noodles. Hey, anything was possible, because even though he was her father she knew little about him. A spiteful smile spread across Rukia's face as she pictured Byakuya poisoning her dinner. Maybe it would put her out of her misery. Most people had interesting unhappiness, but Rukia's was just boring.

"I need to take… a walk," she decided aloud, beginning to sit up. A pained expression shot across her face as her stomach throbbed mercilessly, and she just full out dropped herself onto the floor. Well, it sure was easier than laying there waiting for a nonexistent savior. As soon as she hit the ground Rukia rose to her feet, shuffling across the room to her flip flops. She still wore her blue silk nightie that only went as low as her upper thighs, but who cared. Hisana sure didn't, and Byakuya was always working at this hour. He left at midnight and came back at noon; twelve hour workday Rukia didn't think she could ever work that hard… maybe if she made seven figures a year like her father.

The walk downstairs was relatively easy. It was the wet, buggy weather that was the hard part. It stung her throat when she breathed in the humid air, but it hurt even more when she bumped into a very tall, bright haired someone who just happened to be standing on the front step.

"AHHH!!" she let out her bloodcurdling scream with frightening fervor, tripping over her own feet and falling back into the front door. As soon as the swirling sunspots had cleared and the birdies flying around her head had gone away, Rukia seethed at the figure in the darkness.

"_Ichigo_." She snapped, grabbing for his shoulder in the darkness but having trouble achieving her goal. "What're you doing in front of my house?"

"I was on my way to the hill," said his drawling voice with a hint of pleasure. "And I wondered what kind of rich bastard owned this place. I guess it's you." A pleased smile made its way across his lips. "I figured you were loaded, but I didn't think you were _this _loaded."

"_I'm _not loaded, my idiot father is. And the fact that you just used the word loaded shows that you've got no manners, Ichigo!" she bit her lip and worked a little harder to regain her balance.

"Oh, wow, I have no manners." Even though Ichigo rolled his eyes, the smile was unmistakable and it plainly shocked Rukia. He was grinning right at her. "What are you doing out at three in the morning?" his brown eyes were alight with true curiosity.

"I went out for a walk, now keep your big orange head out of my business," Rukia replied, shooting a look at Ichigo's hair. The redhead knit his brows and began to descend the porch. "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"To the hill. You coming?" he asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Moon's nice." Indeed, the large white orb was glowing nicely in the India-ink sky.

"Uh!" Rukia was surprised by this sudden proposition, and stood like an idiot on the top step. "I—I guess so, I mean, if you…" her blue eyes met his.

"Come on then." Ichigo averted his gaze and turned his back on her, walking toward the gate, and Rukia wondered how he had even gotten in. the wrought iron fence seemed even more menacing in the moonlight. She didn't hesitate when Ichigo held it open this time, because she had looked like an idiot then. Ichigo let the gate slam unceremoniously behind them, causing Rukia to cringe inwardly. He had absolutely no regard for… things like that.

It wasn't very long before the two reached a large, grassy field where the sun shined on the already dewy grass. A smattering of trees encircled the green haven.

"Ichigo?" Rukia asked.

"Hn?" Ichigo said, indicating that he was listening faintly as he plopped down on the grass.

"Why'd you go out to see the moon tonight? I mean, I'm not a prying type of person but I was just wondering." There was a silence where Rukia stared at Ichigo, and Ichigo looked up at the luminous moon. It was like there was peace in the world.

"The moon's alright. It's small and it's kinda the underdog hero," he explained, shoving his hands into his pockets. Rukia sank down onto her knees behind Ichigo, who was wearing a white shirt and black cotton pants. The smaller girl nearly hyperventilated when she realized she was still wearing her explicit nightgown. But Ichigo didn't seem to take notice; either that or he didn't care.

"Mmfh," Rukia mumbled quietly, turning her gaze up to the stars. It was amazing in what proportion they were, each only a few inches from the next. It was like… like… Rukia didn't have anything to compare them to. They were like little beacons of hope shining in a sea of despondency. Wow, poetic. Rukia needed to write this stuff down.

She sighed and breathed in the grass's earthy scent, and was met with a secondary smell. It was a mixture of… shaving cream and… yep it was Ichigo. Rukia ran her nose along the bristly blades, pretending to smell them but really smelling Ichigo.

"Can I ask you somethin'?" he said suddenly, surprising Rukia.

"As long as it isn't stupid," Rukia replied, her true colors showing.

"Why do you keep showing up?" Ichigo said roughly, voicing Rukia's most prominent emotion that had surfaced over the past few days.

"Yeah, I was wondering the exact same thing." She bit her lip, playing with a stray blade of grass and turning it over and over again between her hands. Rukia then began to pull it apart, piece by piece.

"Maybe it's doom." Ichigo deadpanned and Rukia bristled.

"Doom? Why won't you say fate?"

"Fate makes it sound all lovey-dovey," he said matter of factly, pressing his lips together and putting a disgusted tone on the words 'lovey-dovey'.

"Mmfh," Rukia said again, cracking her knuckles and letting the blade fall back onto the ground from whence it came. "So like, why did you save my undies again?"

"I think I already told you that," Ichigo pointed out as he dropped flat on his back. "I don't like it when people are messed with. That's honestly the last time I'm gonna say it, and I'm not gonna waste all my time trying to pound it into your thick, octopus shaped skull."

Rukia was suddenly expressionless, but her lips quivered. "Octopus?" wow, Ichigo. Just wow.

"Yeah, your head is all big on top, but then you have like, your ends are shaped like tentacles," Ichigo explained, his eyes roving over Rukia's face. "And you've got big eyes. Do you also spray ink out your butt—"

"SHUT IT!" before she knew it, Rukia had tackled Ichigo, her knees digging into his chest. "You can make fun of my dad all you want, Kurosaki, but never, _**ever**_ make fun of ME!" she screamed it right in his face. And then Ichigo did something totally unexpected: he busted out laughing. His chest rumbled slightly beneath her kneecaps.

"Okay midget," he said, turning over so as to rest over Rukia's stomach. Rukia's belly did a back flip as he fell on her. "My turn then. Don't come to my house at all hours." She could smell his slightly sweet but otherwise minty breath. He could smell her soft black hair, and she gulped again at her dreadfully short night gown. Ichigo was staring with an amused expression, his amber eyes narrowed and his thin lips curled. Her eyes were large and spacious, their blueness reflecting the earlier tones of the heavens. Her mouth was slack as if she were surprised.

"Don't call me midget." Rukia said after what seemed like an eternity, her stare unwinding at him as she was slightly immobilized by his weight. She didn't like being crushed by Ichigo, but she was a bit relieved that he wasn't as standoffish as she had originally thought he was. Here was a boy who didn't mind her. Who was her friend…?

"Believe me, I'll come up with a better nickname," he crooned mockingly. "Something that'll piss you off…" he looked up at the sky in thought, relieving a little bit of the pressure on Rukia's torso.

"Yeah?" Rukia breathed. "Like what?" she tilted her head to the side with a mischievous smile. "I bet you can't think of anything other than midget."

"Dwarf," Ichigo said immediately, looking like he had discovered the end to world hunger.

"Try again," Rukia said dryly, letting her arms flop bleakly on either side of her body as Ichigo just sat there on top of her, not having any clue how… intimate… that position was. Rukia was amazed by how oblivious he dared to be. His legs curled beneath him on either side of the small girl, making her feel slightly ensnared. He held himself up by his arms, and his hands were on either side of Rukia's head. She smiled in spite of herself at that.

"It'll come to me," Ichigo persisted, rolling back over onto his back and ending his brief physical union with Rukia, who was gasping for air at the moment. "Thanks for comin' out here. I would've been bored as hell if you hadn't."

"Um, no problem," Rukia replied. "And did you have to leech all the air out of my lungs? God Ichigo!" her eyes became cold bluish rocks.

"Ph," Ichigo said. "Anyway, you should get home now. I don't want your crazy father coming after me with a knife and a jar of vinegar." He cringed, but Rukia didn't notice as she was still massaging her poor ribs. "Aw, c'mon, it's not that bad so stop exaggerating." He got to his feet, and Rukia noticed how long his legs were.

"You're too big!" Rukia said quietly, but certainly not without emotion. She jumped to her feet. "Why yell at me when it's obviously your fault?!"

"You tackled me first," Ichigo said haughtily, running a hand through his hair as his face twisted into a smug look. "Or did you think I wouldn't try and fight back?"

"That's only because you called me octopus," Rukia said blackly. "This isn't my fault. It's called genetics." As soon as she had finished the word _genetics, _she heard a single tone ringer and saw a rumbling within Ichigo's pocket.

"What do you want, Abarai?" he said irritably, picking up just after he had gotten a look at the caller ID. "With what?"

Rukia smirked and sat back down onto the ground.

"How much? 50? C'mon, Renji. How stupid do you think I am? I'll take 100, nothing less, got that? Alright, I'll be the—Rukia? Oh, you are? Okay." He mouthed the words, 'Your sister'. Rukia's eyebrows shot up so far that they were hazardously close to disappearing into her hair. She grabbed the phone (which also smelled like Ichigo).

"Akamori?!" her voice was an octave high.

"Hey, kid. How's life?" Akamori drawled, her supple voice coming clearly through the phone.

"Umm, where are you?" Rukia demanded her voice hardening.

"I'm at Renji's. Don't give yourself an aneurism." The elder Kuchiki daughter laughed and Rukia heard a guitar somewhere in the background. "How's Dad?"

"The same."

"He needs to lighten up, he's not getting any younger," Akamori mused aloud. "Anyways, Renji just got off the phone with your friend Ichigo. They're cousins."

Rukia's immune system jolted, realizing that there were people out there who were actually related to Ichigo. "Oh, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, Renji hired Ichigo to help with the house, and I was wondering if you wanna pull your weight or if you wanna be lazy."

"…Fine," Rukia said; there was never any sense in arguing with Akamori. She was extremely stubborn. "I'll be there tomorrow."

"'Kay." The line went dead. Rukia held the phone as it moaned the dial tone, knitting her eyebrows at her sister. Akamori had gotten all the beauty and she acted like a guy all the time. It made absolutely no sense.

"Let's get you home," Ichigo said for the second time, irritation coloring his voice and face. "I'm tired."

"Fine," Rukia snapped.

She walked around the hill once and geared up her legs. She started off slow, jogging at a snail's pace, and before she knew it she was just running, down the sidewalk. Ichigo's distant voice called after her, but she ignored it. It was all about Rukia now. She was running, running, nothing mattered... her feet moved soundlessly on the ground with intense velocity, making all of nature bow to her greatness. The small girl was queen; that is, until she smashed into the iron gates and fell on her behind.

Rukia's lips quivered as her behind throbbed heartlessly, not allowing her one second of release from the pain. She had landed right on the concrete, and she had landed hard. Hearing Ichigo's footsteps in the distance was not even a point of release. She could see the slightest tinge of light in the sky. It must be about five now, thought she as her red haired friend approached.

"You fell right on your ass." He sounded amused, but Rukia wasn't looking at him. She didn't have the energy to open her eyes. "Hey, I'm not gonna sit here and watch you snore. Get on up." She felt Ichigo's hand grab hers and jerk her to her feet; she followed woodenly as he led her through the gate, her neck hurting. "Don't die on me."

"Mhm," Rukia smiled slightly, her eyes still closed as she clenched Ichigo's hand for support. He had relatively thin fingers, very long compared to hers. "Thanks."

"For what, not letting you sleep on the sidewalk? You're welcome," he said snidely, and Rukia almost tripped on the top step of the porch. Everything was a daze, she could see sunspots behind her eyes and birdies around her head again. Before she knew it Ichigo was ushering her into the foyer. She opened her tired eyes to see him, somber and tired; his eyes squinted slightly from the sudden light of the house. Her hand was still crushing his. "Hey, don't break my wrist. I need that."

"Hm," Rukia chuckled quietly, letting go of it at last and suddenly feeling vulnerable.

"Look," Ichigo said. "I'm sick of wondering. Why do you even… why do you shadow me all the time?" his mouth went slack and his gaze inquisitive. Rukia deadpanned, but it eventually turned into a somewhat solemn expression.

"Because I care," she explained as she reached the foot of the stairs. "Now, you get home. If you fall asleep there's no way I can carry you."

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The next morning dawned clear and early, much to the chagrin of a particularly short girl. Her alarm had buzzed ferociously for two hours before Rukia had eventually thrown it out the window. _May it rest in peace, _thought Rukia acidly as she changed into a plain white dress and flip flops. Today was the day she was going to help Akamori with the move… which meant she had a lot of running back and forth to do. Sigh. She ran a brush through her hair, which looked strangely round this morning. Huh. Rukia shrugged and opened her bedroom door.

She raced down the stairs, smiling in spite of herself at the memory of what had happened yesterday. She had gone to look at the moon with Ichigo… and then she had fallen unceremoniously on her butt. Ichigo had taken her home afterwards, and he hadn't hesitated to make jokes about it. Well, it was Ichigo after all.

When Rukia went outside, she saw the clear sky rumbling with purplish-black clouds. It sure was raining a lot lately. As the first drop hit her square in the forehead, Rukia picked up her umbrella from its resting place next to a statue of her mother on the porch. Byakuya had had the sculpture made early in their marriage, or so Hisana had said. Rukia had always wondered how young she had been when they'd wed. Hopefully she had been at least twenty.

Rukia wondered how Orihime was doing. She hadn't seen her since Tuesday, and it was Thursday morning now. She opened the bright blue umbrella that was covered in little white stars and strode quietly along, with no real destination. She had been walking for about fifteen minutes when she reached an ice cream stand, bright and flashing in the now dark morning.

"Skittle vanilla," she said, taking a look at the menu.

"You'll like it!" said a little blonde girl with huge blue eyes. "My name's Lilin!" she stuck her tongue out and the slightly lethargic red haired man behind her looked too.

"I'm Rukia," Rukia said good-naturedly as she retrieved her ice cream and put a five dollar bill on the counter. A moment later, a second girl shot up from behind the shelf. She had chin length… wow, pink— hair and big brown eyes.

"Ooh!" she said, a big smile on her face. "A customer! Kenny! Kenn—y!" after a second, an awfully tall and scary looking man with gelled spikes came around the back of the stand.

"You're our first customer in a month," he said with a deep, gravelly tone.

"Why?" as she had her yummy Skittle-covered cone, Rukia wondered how they could possibly have bad business.

"People are scared of Kenny," said the little pink haired girl sadly, gesturing to her friend.

"Oh." Rukia bit her lip and gave 'Kenny' a sympathetic smile as she ate her icy confection. "I'm not scared."

"Heh." He said, giving a wide and somewhat evil looking grin. "You've got guts, kid."

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It wasn't Akamori who opened the door. It was a tall man with a red ponytail and tattooed eyebrows. He looked down incredulously.

"I don't buy Girl Scout Cookies," he said matter of factly.

"And I don't sell them," Rukia said with a sarcastic grin. "Where's my sister?" it took a minute, but Renji finally seemed to realize that he had been speaking to the younger Kuchiki daughter.

"Uhm…" he seemed slightly embarrassed, his tanned face darkening more and more. "She's still sleeping right now, I think." Renji deadpanned and looked into the living room, where the sleeping silhouette of Akamori could be seen on the couch. Her hair hung over the side and her face looked peaceful.

"I'll come back later then," Rukia said waspishly.

"Have fun with that." Renji shut the door quietly, his eyebrows arched at the much smaller girl. As soon as it had been closed Rukia made a sour face; the day was truly shot now. Nothing but rain and Skittle-covered ice cream cones had she accomplished. Perhaps she was in some sort of useless funk. Rukia wanted nothing more than to go home and lie in bed.

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As the rain dropped rhythmically upon the roof Rukia listened aimlessly as raven strands fell over her deep indigo eyes. Her breathing was slow and steady into her Chappy pillow that Ichigo had sent to her. It smelled of baby powder and citrus, a nice aroma to her lately unchallenged nose. Everything else seemed dull to her.

A soft knock on the door caused one of Rukia's eyes to slide open, but she was still a bit too lazy to get up. "Come in," she said. The hinges creaked slightly as the newcomer made his or her way in, and by the sound of his leather shoes on the carpeting Rukia realized it was her father. "Good afternoon, Father."

"To you as well," Byakuya said as he stood stiffly in the center of the room. "Are you feeling all right?" his grey eyes locked on her.

"F-fine," Rukia stammered, wondering why he would ask such a question. "How is mother?"

"That's what I've been meaning to talk to you about." His stance grew more unyielding by the second. "We had a visit from the doctor yesterday."

Rukia bit down hard on her lip. "Is she… I mean, how bad is it?"

"It's not bad at all," Byakuya said quietly. "Your mother is to expect a child in January." There was a silence as Rukia's system processed her father's statement. Her mother, Hisana… she was going to have a baby!

"I'm so glad," Rukia said truthfully. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl yet?"

Her father shook his head. "No." Rukia had known for a long time about his aspiration to have an heir before he got too old. Hisana had said that on the morning of Rukia's birth, Byakuya took a long walk and wouldn't come near the child. Sometimes she felt absurdly guilty for upsetting her father but there really wasn't anything she could do about it.

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The tangerine haired teenager slipped a white T-shirt over his head and a pair of boxer shorts. It was about 8 o'clock now, and he hadn't done anything interesting today. At all. He'd mostly sat around and watched television until his father told him he was going to get fat. Ichigo had then kicked said father in the face. After that he had showered and sat around until his clothes didn't seem that comfortable. And now here he was.

Then there was Rukia. Ichigo wondered what the little midget was up to. She was probably harassing some other guy. If she knew any other guys. She probably didn't… other than nerdy ones who could only hang out with girls. Why was he even thinking about these people, the ones that had no lives?

"Ichi-nii?" said a little voice. Ichigo looked to the doorway to see his tiny sister Yuzu, holding a teddy bear that looked vaguely like a lion. "Isn't this yours?"

Ichigo deadpanned, his face ripped through with red. "That. Is. Not. Mine." His sister was only six, but she was so small and short people mistook her for younger. She acted six most of the time, though.

"Yes it is. I asked Daddy and he said that this was yours and his name is Kon…" she looked into the beady brown eyes of said stuffed animal.

"It's not mine, Daddy lied," Ichigo insisted, turning away from his favorite childhood toy. "Now go to bed."

Yuzu looked hurt. "Ichi-nii…" her brown eyes glittered with tears. Ichigo immediately put on a nervous smile and took the bear from his sister.

"See, he's mine!" he said, trying to be happy about it.

"Yeah," Yuzu said. "Night Ichi-nii."

"G'night Yuzu," Ichigo sank onto his bed, staring at the frayed toy as his sister left the room. Kon had been a present from his mother, Masaki. She had said that when she wasn't there, Ichigo needed a buddy to keep him company until she was back again. Ichigo had replied with that grin he had always worn.

The carrot top sighed and turned out his bedroom light that always flickered irritably on and off. He had a feeling that his father had probably attacked him with it one morning and he had forgotten. It wouldn't surprise him. Isshin had absolutely no life, and no friends except for Ryuuken Ishida, a fellow doctor who worked at the hospital uptown. The two had apparently gone to high school together, or so Isshin said.

Night was the time Ichigo thought most. During the day there never seemed to be enough time. It was the first of July and he had done virtually nothing this summer.

Rukia probably hadn't done anything either with that tight ass father watching her every move. Ichigo had seen him a few times around town. He had black hair and cruel grey eyes, making him a favorite among the women who didn't seem to care whether he was married or not. Kuchiki never seemed to notice them staring him down. Ichigo had always rolled his eyes around him; he loathed rich men. They were very inexperienced when it came to life.

But what of his daughter? No matter how short and annoying she was, Rukia seemed fairly level-headed. Whenever Ichigo made a mistake, she was always there to tell him all about it and what he needed to do to fix it… blah blah blah. He never listened. Ichigo had always been too busy getting entertainment out of her irritated face. Seriously, though. Rukia was pretty smart about the ways of life and how to live it. She was okay.

Ichigo needed some sleep desperately. He took sleep aids occasionally because he just couldn't seem to drift off, but they never helped him more than a trifle. His mattress wasn't too soft. So what was the problem here?

There seemed to be something underlying in his mind that he hadn't thought on much, and so far Ichigo hadn't made much progress in finding out what that was.

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Aha! Finally finished with that chapter. Sorry about the wait, I was having inspirational issues with it. Ichigo's thinking wasn't too rambly, was it? I was trying to set down some of his key issues. I hope it wasn't too annoying, but if you don't think about your life and the people in it, you're bound to explode eventually (case in point, Momo Hinamori). Hisana being pregnant was an add-on to this; I was hoping to give her and Byakuya their own little storyline within. I was a little too brain-dead for the Akamori/Renji/Ichigo/Rukia move, but it will be soon, I promise you!! I named this chapter for one of Shakespeare's works, seeing as Ichigo has a fondness for the merry playwright. Anyway, I truly, sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review! :D


	6. Preparations

* * *

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_Even the best fall down sometimes, and even the stars refuse to shine. –_Howie Day

...

Ichigo's birthday was only a day away, and drawing closer by the second. Isshin was bustling around as if he were insane in his rush to get everything in order, but his son was... less than anxious for the sixteenth anniversary of his life. Every year his father ushered all the relatives up for a humiliating party and Ichigo seemed to spend most of it hiding in his bedroom. Ninety percent of the family doted on Ichigo's height 24/7 and he was getting sick of the uproar. Why couldn't they just eat some cake and go on home?

It was the fourteenth of July and the sun beat mercilessly down on the tiny hamlet of Karakura, making the residents hot and irritated. Ichigo didn't sense any difference, since he was usually irritated anyway, but he still wore shorts and T-shirts. His father still wore slacks and a lab coat. Crazy bastard. Isshin Kurosaki was a strange man in many ways, but the clothing nonconformity was just disturbing.

Ichigo sighed and got slowly off the couch to his feet, yawning. He had done nothing but sit around today... again. There had been a very interesting television special on the eight-limbed girl in India, but it freaked him out a little so he had stayed on the Food Network. There was nothing scary about Crème Brule, unless you read the nutrition facts.

The phone rang and jerked him out of his reminiscing. Its shrill tone hit his immune system immediately and he yanked the receiver up into his otherwise idle fingers.

"Hello?" his voice sounded tired and bored. As usual.

"Ichigo?" came a quiet voice from the other side. Its placid tone told him that it was none other than Rukia Kuchiki.

"Hey midget," he said tritely, sitting back down on the sofa and sighing.

"I told you not to call me a midget. I'll let it slide this time but if it happens again I will be forced to destroy you." Ichigo was sure Rukia was smirking on the other end, because her voice was colored with that haughty undertone she used.

"Uh-huh, sure. Now what do you want?" his little orange kitty, Masaki, stalked past and rubbed her head against his ankle. Ichigo scratched her behind the ears in a reflection of his own boredom.

"Tatsuki told me that your birthday is tomorrow. Is it?" terrific. Even the annoying little Rukia knew about Ichigo's birthday. Why didn't his father just put an ad in the paper?

"Yeah." He rolled his amber eyes, annoyed.

"Well, you're having a party, right?"

"…Yes." Ichigo deadpanned. A birthday party with Rukia, his father and the twins all in the same room together. How fun.

"What time is it starting?" she truly seemed curious. Ichigo, surprised, rolled his eyes in a spiteful manner and bit his lip. Maybe he should lie.

"Noon." Maybe if he got to torment Rukia it wouldn't be so bad. "And try not to be so damn conspicuous, would you please?" Ichigo had told the truth but he was going to convince her out of it.

Rukia scoffed.

"There's nothing conspicuous about me, Ichigo. I'm just a little girl who is very innocent and caring."

"Sure." Ichigo reeled from the nonsense of her statement. "I think you're a rich brat who doesn't know crap from applesauce." A cup full of the sweet fruity snack sat on the counter; it had been part of Yuzu's now abandoned breakfast.

"I may very well be, but your family doesn't know that. First impressions are everything, Ichigo, and if you execute them right you can get anybody to believe just about anything," Rukia said matter-of-factly. "I myself am I master of the craft."

"Yeah, whatever." Ichigo picked up a dusty old photo album off the shelf and opened it to see a six-year-old version of himself, sitting in a lawn chair with cake frosting all over his face. Above him loomed Masaki, her long strawberry blond hair pulled back in a long ponytail. She was trying to wipe the frosting off but apparently, Ichigo had refused, because he was attempting to dodge his mother.

"Well, I have to go! See you tomorrow, twelve o'clock!" Ichigo had almost forgotten that he was on the phone with Rukia when she hung up. The carrot top nearly smashed the receiver back onto the base, but refrained when his sister Karin entered the living room with her soccer ball.

"I'm gonna go play with Jinta and Kita," she said quietly. "Tell Dad if he asks." His sister had always been very distant, because she wasn't really good at anything other than sports. Ichigo could not believe that Rukia had thought the two of them were babies. They were fragile, though. When Yuzu woke up, she immediately began to cry because of her nightmares that happened almost every night. When Karin awoke, she would be upset about it too. The younger of the two, Yuzu, followed Ichigo and clung to him because Isshin was at work a lot. Karin would usually stay shut up in their bedroom. Despite their childish looks and attitudes, the girls were _not _babies. They were clearly kids with their own personalities. Rukia had probably taken their cries the wrong way. Sometimes she could be narrow-minded, but that was what made her so enjoyable.

"Be back before six," Ichigo chided, shutting the photo album hastily and placing it back on the shelf. "I'll make something to eat.." his mind drifted to the TV dinners that lay frozen in the cavernous freezer and shuddered. They tasted like hundred-year-old cat crap...

"Bye." Karin shut the door noiselessly and Ichigo listened to the sound of her fading footsteps, appalled by how little he had done this summer. Sure, he had hung around with Dwarf Kuchiki occasionally but every occasionally he wondered why she even bothered to hang around with him anyway.

_Because I care. _Rukia's words rung in his head like a loudspeaker and Ichigo pondered the meaning of them. What was there to care about? He was no mental patient. The redhead was perfectly sane in all respects. Maybe _he _was the conspicuous one. Or maybe Rukia was just a worrywart.

As Ichigo contemplated Rukia's motives for befriending him, the doorbell rang twice. He glanced at his disheveled self in the mirror before opening it. At the door was the buxom redhead, Orihime Inoue, who wore gray track pants and a pink T-shirt. Her long red hair hung down past her upper back as always.

"Hi, Ichigo!" she said merrily.

"Hey Orihime," Ichigo said. "What's up?"

"Tatsuki's off on a run, Rukia's out shopping, and I have absolutely no one to talk to right now!" she said, as if it were something to be proud of.

"All... right," Ichigo said tritely, scratching his head. "So like... you wanna hang out with me, right?" he didn't really care all that much, but Orihime was a nice person and her brother worked a lot.

"Yeah!" she said sweetly. "I brought boneless chicken smothered in pumpkin filling! Won't it be yummy!?" she looked down at the basket in gleeful anticipation, her gray eyes alight.

Ichigo cringed. "Y-yeah. I'm sure it will be..."

...

Rukia was stumped as she stood in the center of Wal-Mart, her mind buzzing with ideas that Inner Rukia immediately shot down. Ichigo couldn't be very particular about gifts. So why was she having such a hard time?

"Need any help?" asked a pretty girl with dark brown hair chestnut-colored eyes. She had a full face with nice features and had on a loose fitting yellow sundress that made her creamy-white skin look nice.

"Um, sort of." Rukia gestured to her empty shopping basket with a feeling of shame. "My friend's birthday is tomorrow, and... well, to be perfectly honest I haven't the slightest idea what to get him."

"Well..." the girl looked puzzled. "What's he like?"

"He's kind of distant and he can be a little cold. But once you talk to him for a while he makes jokes and he's really nice." Rukia remembered the memories of walking through the forest and lying in the field with the boy in question.

"My best friend is like that," Momo said knowingly, nodding. "And he's really cold, too. Sometimes it hurts to touch him because he's kind of... well, he doesn't like hot weather." She smiled as if remembering some long forgotten joke. "Your friend probably likes rock music, I bet."

"Yeah." Rukia smiled and made her way down the aisle until she reached a smattering of CDs. Momo picked up one that read 'Sugarcult' and brandished it in Rukia's face.

"Sugarcult might be nice!" she said, her tone sugary to match the word.

"Ichigo might like it," Rukia agreed. The genre read General/Alternative Rock and it had twenty-six songs.

"Ichigo Kurosaki?" Momo's dark eyes widened at the thought. "I know him! He was in my eighth—no, ninth grade class!" Momo grinned from ear to ear. "I didn't know his birthday was tomorrow!"

"Yeah, he told me about it a while ago," Rukia was lying, but it felt too good.

"Can I come to the party?" Momo pushed, looking more and more excited by the second. Lying was beneath Rukia (although she did it anyway), but bursting other peoples' bubbles sure wasn't.

"You might want to ask Ichigo first."

...

"Onii-chan, you'll like what I got for your birthday!" Yuzu said, obviously excited. Ichigo was glad his family was approaching his birthday with gusto, but it was a bit too much occasionally. "Here's a hint: it's red!"

"Great, it'll match Onii-chan's outfit," said Karin dryly, gesturing to the red shirt and shoes Ichigo had lain out. Nothing else was clean and he didn't feel like doing laundry on his birthday, even though he personally hated birthdays.

"And mine!" Isshin bellowed, suddenly appearing with a red silk shirt and pants. "This will be a red birthday for Ichigo!" he put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Let go of me or it'll be even redder," Ichigo warned, "when I spill your blood all over the place. It's such a shame that it takes so long to bleach and cover a stain..." he shook his head and his father immediately let go. The redhead smirked and took a huge bite out of his pizza.

"Onii-chan also invited a girl," Yuzu said suddenly, as if it had come back to her.

Isshin beamed. "Did you really, my son?"

Ichigo deadpanned. "What if I did? Besides, it's not like that, you perverted old geezer." The eldest Kurosaki child downed his Dr. Pepper.

Isshin smirked. "Fine then... use protection and make me proud," he whispered, only to be greeted with a powerful forehead kick from Ichigo. "Oh, Mother!" he suddenly glanced skyward with a simpering expression, "Ichigo has become involved with a girl that he denies! Why, why? If only you were here..."

"If she were here I bet you wouldn't bug me as much. And I'm not _involved _with anyone."

"But you left with Orihime earlier!" said Yuzu.

"All I did was sit around and eat her disgusting food," Ichigo said truthfully. Yuzu looked confused, but Isshin seemed appeased. "_Freakin' pie filling_… Anyway, who's coming to this party?"

"Hmm… your mother's parents, mine, your cousin Renji and his girlfriend, um, I think your friend is coming, then Orihime, and a few other locals," Isshin explained, counting each title off on his fingers as he said them.

"Yay," Ichigo said dryly, crushing the soda can within his fingers and letting it drop to the floor. "Anyway, Dad, I'm gonna help Renji with moving tomorrow. So if you wake up and I'm not here, don't piss yourself."

Isshin deadpanned. "Mother, why doesn't our son love me?"

Ichigo sighed. "I could say anything I wanted right now and no one would notice," he said waspishly, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "I really could."

...

Rukia woke to the angry screeching of that infernal alarm clock. (O.o Wasn't it already... dead?)

After murdering it, she slid on her red lace party dress and nestled a rose in her hair (the outfit Hisana had delighted at picking out when she had forced Rukia to bring her some options). It was a little girly, but for someone's birthday she should probably show a little respect, even if it was just Ichigo. She picked up the CD, wrapped in plain blue paper, and walked into her closet.

The raven-haired girl put on red ballet flats and grabbed one of the many purses she had bought but never used. They had all wound up too feminine in the end. She was not associated with those pretty, preppy girls whose biggest concern was hairspray buildup. Then again, she didn't hang around jock-girls either. Rukia decided that she was biologically female, but culturally impartial.

Finally, she reached the cobbled sidewalks that wound around the Kuchiki Estate.

The heel of her foot became shortly wedged in one of the stones but it did not take long to pull it out as she strode quickly forward. The midmorning air hung quietly around her, the humidity making her hair feel slightly more voluminous than it should. Rukia cursed herself for not applying for a learner's permit and straightened the straps on her party dress.

A delightfully evil realization that Ichigo might still be sleeping shot across her mind like wildfire in a dry wood forest. Rukia could picture him now; his face was contorted into that same annoyed expression that was always there, the planes of his cheeks curved on their sides. His thin mouth was wide and slack in a slightly despondent grimace. The look fit him well.

The words 'Kurosaki Clinic' were starchy and dew covered this early. Rukia inhaled and knocked quietly on the door. As soon as she had begun to lower her fist, the door swung open merrily to reveal a tall, smiling man in a red shirt and silk pants. At first, Rukia wondered how many Kurosaki's there could be in town, but in his features, she could see a hint of Ichigo.

"Dr. Kurosaki?" she asked quietly, feeling deeply out of place.

"That's Isshin to you!" he said in a booming voice, and Rukia trembled in shock. As the father of Ichigo, she hadn't expected him to be quite so friendly.

"Hi there!" she said, feeling a little more at ease with him. "I'm Rukia!" she added this as an afterthought because she was polite, and also because he probably didn't have a clue who she was.

"Oho, you're Rukia!" he seemed pleased and Rukia went pink. What had Ichigo said about her? "My son's at the house, right next door!" whoops. Maybe going to the family business wasn't the best idea.

"Nice to meet you, Isshin," she said nicely, accenting the goodbye with a kind wave. "And thank you for having me over."

"No problem!" Isshin beamed as Rukia reached the wooden door that led into Ichigo's house. She liked his dad already, but didn't know about the little girls. She knocked on this door too, and waited a moment before it was opened by the timid little girl with honey blonde hair. She remembered her as Yuzu from the pool.

"Hi there," Rukia said, leaning over.

"Hi," Yuzu said in a sweet voice. She wore an overlarge chef's hat on her head and her hands were covered in flour. "Ichi-nii!!" she called back into the house behind her.

"What?" Ichigo's voice called back, and Rukia's stomach flipped at the notion that he was up this early.

"Rukia's here!" she remembered Rukia's name. The older girl felt a sudden surge of warmth toward the little girl in the cooking garb. But it faded slightly when Ichigo's lanky form came onto the porch with her. His orange hair was ruffled in casual disarray over the side of his face, and it was slightly wet. He didn't seem mad but he didn't quite seem happy.

"Well, midget showed up early," he said playfully, whipping out a hand to pat the top of her head in a mocking fatherly way. Rukia's agitated feelings for him quickly returned as she tried to protect the rose that was carefully embedded in her tresses.

"Skyscraper is over-observant," Rukia came back with, shoving his hand off and watching it fall limply to his side before he shoved it in his pocket. "Anyway, why is Yuzu cooking? That's your job as a big brother!"

"Like you know anything about being the older sibling," Ichigo reminded her bitterly. "Yuzu likes to cook for us." He stood up with a look of pride and Rukia felt that surge again. It was suddenly manifesting itself inside of her, like a quirk that waited to be acknowledged. Weird. "Speaking of sisters, today we help yours move."

"Right…" Rukia gave a nod as she smelled chocolate from the kitchen and sucked back the string of drool that longed to be free.

"My cousin's provoked easily," he informed. "So try not to get him really riled up or he'll be over stimulated and start being pissy." Ichigo looked off into the distance as if he were remembering some long forgotten joke. "She used to be my babysitter," he laughed aloud.

"Who did?" Rukia demanded, surprised by the sudden female reference.

"Akamori." Ichigo scratched his chin. "When I was ten my dad sent her over all the time and she used to make pudding." Ichigo stared at the growing cloud cover. "I loved that pudding." His amber eyes were off in the distance. "Chocolate with sprinkles."

"She probably made it out of a can," Rukia said, bursting his bubble. "My sister isn't very old fashioned."

"It was still good pudding," Ichigo said matter of factly, leaning back against the railing with a pissy expression.

"I'm sure." Rukia rolled her amethyst eyes.

"So how'd you swing this with Kuchiki?" Ichigo inquired. It took Rukia a minute to realize what he meant.

"Oh! I guess… my mom knows. I'm not sure about Byakuya." She had no problem calling him by his first name, if it wasn't straight to his face.

"Yeah, well, let's go inside."

...

Akamori awoke to the sound of a lawnmower in the distance, and it slowly dawned on her that she no longer lived in the Kuchiki house. There would be no more house cleaners or fancy dinners, just cooking and cleaning for yourself.

She caught sight of herself in a small mirror hanging on the wall. Her hair curled wildly over her face and shoulders; her skin was milky and unhealthy looking. This was disgusting, she had to go to a party today! Repulsed by herself, Akamori turned away and was greeted by a pair of brown eyes.

"Renji!" she said in shock, as he took in her facial features with nothing less than amazement. The look made her blush.

He shook his head like a wet dog. "Mornin'." His ponytail was disheveled this early.

"What's up?" Akamori asked, reaching for her glasses from the bedside table. She usually wore contacts but nowadays they had gotten annoying.

"Nothing important. Ichigo's birthday." He picked up his cell phone from the bedside table and clicked through it.

"I know that, I don't live in a padded room," Akamori rolled her eyes playfully and slid off the bed to her suitcase, pulling out a simple black dress with a plunging neckline. Renji would like that. "What are you going to wear?"

"What's wrong with this?" he was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. "Sorry if it isn't fancy enough for you."

"Renji," Akamori walked forward and clasped his hand in both of hers; the cell phone tumbled to the floor and Renji flushed deeply. "I know you're not fancy. If you were I wouldn't be with you, and you know that." The corner of her mouth curled. "I was a flamingo born into a flock of pigeons. So naturally I'm gonna seek out the peacock."

"If I'm a peacock," Renji smirked, "what's Ichigo?"

"An orange," Akamori fastened a cross necklace over her neck. "And my sister is a… hm…"

"I know you're going to say something evil yet funny."

"My sister is a swan," she said, her orange eyes huge with some hidden emotion.

"Huh?"

"My sister is beautiful." Akamori blinked slowly and took a seat on the scarred leather couch near the door, looking like a diamond in a pile of rocks.

"Where did that come from?" Renji questioned, locking an arm around his girlfriend's neck. "You're random."

"My life is random," she said dramatically, faking a pained expression. "Woe is me; Renji… woe is me…" her sun colored eyes shut.

"Woe is you," Renji agreed with a smirk. "Now, Madam Woe, get up and help me find my tux…"

...

"You have TiVo?" Rukia gasped as she fiddled with the remote.

"Yeah." Ichigo was still getting used to the fact that Rukia was in his living room. "Click on the name of the show and it'll record." He watched as she clicked the buttons in awe, and a sudden thought struck. "If you're so rich, why don't you have TiVo?"

"Byakuya says that if you need to watch a program, you watch it when it comes on. If you miss it, that's too bad."

"Sounds like he's got some pearls of wisdom," Ichigo rolled his eyes.

"Something like that," Rukia smiled.

It was then that Yuzu called to them. "Onii-chan! Daddy says you need to put up the awning!" she sounded exhausted. _Poor kid, _thought Rukia. _Why does she feel like she has to cook? They could always order a cake…_

"Hey, you dead in there?" Ichigo's voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Uhm… I didn't hear…"

He sighed. "I said I could use your help with the awning."

"Oh, right." Rukia went pink as she followed the redhead out the back door to a large green yard lined with red balloons that Ichigo shoved aside. In the middle of the scene were four giant poles and a gigantic sheet of firm-looking fabric. Rukia supposed that was the awning.

"Grab the sheet; I'll put up the poles. In the mean time, pull some of the dandelions up in the yard."

"Why?" Rukia asked, confused.

"They're weeds and they bring down the property value. Pull them up." Ichigo shoved one of the poles into the dirt. Rukia handed him the long sheet, and he tied one of the corners around the pole.

Rukia approached the field of dandelions. They were swaying happily in the breeze, and it almost made Rukia sad to look at them. She plucked one from the ground, brought it to her lips, and thought hard. Finally, the answer came to her

_I hope Ichigo is happy on his birthday. _She blew the seeds and they scattered freely to the winds.

...

Hisana struggled to keep her eyes open as she waited anxiously for Byakuya's return. She hadn't gotten any sleep; her stomach churned violently every once in a while. She was excited to be having a baby, but at forty it was a little surprising.

And then the door opened slowly to reveal her husband, pallid and cold looking even though it was about a hundred degrees outside.

"Byakuya," she said quietly. "How are you?"

"Fair." He hung his coat on the rack woodenly, then took a seat at the impeccably hewn cherry wood table.

"I saw the doctor this morning." She bit her lip as his eyes solidified.

"There's something wrong." It didn't sound like a question but Hisana's heart jumped.

"I know the gender," she announced proudly, sipping her tea and walking over to pour him a cup. He didn't look at her.

"Isn't it a bit early to tell?" he said softly.

"They told me girls have bigger bladders than boys. And we're having our third girl."

Byakuya breathed a sigh, and he sounded relieved.

"I thought you wanted an heir," she reminded him, slipping an arm around his neck. The skin was hard and cool, like marble.

"I'm fine with daughters. Besides, I was afraid of a son."

Hisana was confused. "A son is always a good thing... don't you always say?" Byakuya wasn't one to contradict anyone, particularly himself.

"Yes. But in a house full of women... he is bound to become a homosexual, to put things bluntly." Byakuya's lips thinned at his wife, who looked appalled. "Speaking of children, where is Rukia?"

"She went to her friend Ichigo's birthday party."

"I've never met this Ichigo..." Byakuya's grip on the table tightened.

"Rukia tells me about her, and she seems like a nice girl," Hisana assured him, running a hand through his long hair. "Besides, since when has Rukia been one to fall in with a bad crowd?"

"I suppose that's true. Akamori is the one we need to worry about..." his eyes flashed to a childhood photograph of his estranged daughter.

"She's basically left this family, love. Let her sew her wild oats."

Byakuya's left eye twitched once. "Do you _have _to phrase it that way?" he pulled quietly away from his wife and stood up. "I'm going to sleep."

"Okay." This conversation had gotten Hisana nowhere.

...

"We did good," Ichigo stated proudly.

They _had _done good, no matter how gramatically incorrect that statement is. It looked like a scene from a hit summer movie, what with the platters of snacks and bunches of red balloons everywhere. Rukia had accidentally let one float away; it was now a red dot somewhere in the sky. Had she not known that it would burst when it left the atmosphere, Rukia would pray for the balloon to reach heaven.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Only took--holy crap. Everyone'll be here in like fifteen minutes."

"Relax, everything's done. I thought you didn't like parties."

"I don't, but if Dad has to throw me one he can at least plan ahead!" he grumbled. "Yuzu was nice enough to bake a cake... not sure where Karin is..."

Karin. Right, the other twin. Rukia had never seen her before, and wondered briefly if she were just a carbon copy of her twin.

"Hm..." she peered over the hill, seeing a small amount of her father's estate in the distance. "Oh, right! Momo's coming..."

"I know, there's nothing wrong with my answering machine," Ichigo reminded sardonically, chewing on a cracker.

"Right..." Rukia rolled her eyes.

"I bet you don't have one..." he smirked and donned a deep, frosty voice. "'If you cannot reach the phone when a person calls... then you will wait for them to call you back.' Your dad's psycho."

"Thanks." Rukia's cell phone beeped from within her pocket, indicating a text.

**Akamori: Where are you?**

Rukia rolled her eyes and responded.

**Rukia: I'm in Guam. Where do you think I am?**

**Akamori: Jeez. Okay, well, we'll be there soon. Tell Ichigo not to eat everything like he did last time...**

Ichigo looked over at the message, his mouth full of crackers. "Whatcha writin'?" he said thickly.

**Rukia: Gotta go. Carrot top is nosy.**

"I am not!" Ichigo bellowed. But Rukia didn't need to retort; the doorbell rang just seconds later.

...

Done! Sorry about the wait. Gah, I still couldn't get the Akamori-Renji-Ichigo-Rukia scene. But obviously it'll be next chap, so try not to be too mad at me. I hope you like this; I tried to tone down the wordiness I usually have in it... because I was rambling on and on in my descriptions. Sorry... I hope no one was OOC. Hisana I can basically give any personality, since only one episode/volume featured her. Akamori is an OC, so the same goes for her. Everyone else is tough, but... I hope I'm doing a good job. Anyways, thanks to all who reviewed so far: **rukiaichigo15chappy**, **Tituba3**, **Berry M.**, **bleachfan**, **darkchocol8807**, **emo1girl**, **MillieEllie**, **RukiaHailee**, **want to be a vampire**, and** seccaberry**. All of your opinions help me; so tell me what you think! :)

Silver Wings

* * *


	7. And So It Begins

* * *

She's Like the Moon,

an **xSilverWingsx** fanfic

_So I'm gonna fly, higher than I ever, ever could._ --Sydney Forest

* * *

"Hey biatch, you're sixteen!" Akamori laughed, grinning at Ichigo as the door opened. She was the embodiment of a Lolita, with her lacy cap sleeves and eyeliner.

"Akamori!" Rukia smiled at her. "How are you?" she felt slightly plain next to her hardcore sister, but realized that her boyfriend was missing from the scene.

"Great," Akamori said with a wink. "Has Dad rented my room out yet or what?"

"...Nope," Rukia said.

"Hey, do you still have that recipe for pudding?" Ichigo questioned blankly, hands in his pockets. "Rukia says you made it out of a can." He turned an accusing eye to the younger Kuchiki daughter.

"And she's right," Akamori confirmed. "Instant pudding mix. Aisle three." She grinned.

"Oh—where's Renji?" Rukia finally asked.

"Renji forgot to get Ichigo a present, the idiot. He's at the store." She rolled her eyes and glanced at a rather scary looking watch that was latched on her wrist. "Am I early?"

"Sort of," Ichigo replied. "You're the second ones here."

"Who's the first?" asked Akamori, confused. Ichigo sweatdropped and pointed at Rukia. "Oh! Right." For a girl of nineteen, Akamori had the attention span of a nine year old. "Anyway, how's your birthday so far, kid?" it was a term she used on everyone.

"Nothing's happened yet," Ichigo informed her, lifting a sheet of aluminum to reveal his finished birthday cake. "We put up the awning already..."

Akamori breathed a sigh of relief. "So there's nothing I have to do?"

"Who is this lovely young lady!?" boomed Isshin's voice; Rukia jumped as Ichigo's father ran into the room. "Such beautiful eyes! My son has amazing friends!"

"Thanks, but I'm Renji's girlfriend..." Akamori shrugged and shook Isshin's hand. "He forgot something VERY IMPORTANT and won't be around until later." Her sunset eyes turned from Isshin to Rukia. "I'm also this kid's older sis."

Isshin looked positively delighted. "A family gathering! How exciting! Ichigo, get the camera for Daddy!"

Rukia heard Ichigo mutter something along the lines of 'idiot fag' and then watched go digging around in the monstrous hall closet, finally pulling a small red camera from its depths. Isshin snatched it up and pushed Akamori and Rukia into the living room.

"Now, you girls sit on the couch! Ichigo, sit between them!" he commanded, looking like a pseudo-photographer at work. Ichigo mumbled some more insults and wedged himself between the two, a grumpy expression on his face. "Ichigo, you're never fully dressed without a smile. No, more. A _smile, _not a pained grimace! Very good!" CLICK.

Rukia sighed and heaved herself off the couch, glad it hadn't lasted very long.

"I'll send you all copies!" Isshin practically squealed, stowing the camera in his shirt pocket. "Ichigo my son, have you heard from your cousin?"

Rukia wasn't sure about Ichigo's cousins. She didn't even know their names.

Ichigo deadpanned. "Hiyori called not too long before Rukia showed up. They'll be here in about fifteen minutes, she said. She cussed me out after that." He rolled his eyes, and with a burst of delicious evil Rukia realized that she would probably like Hiyori.

* * *

Toshiro Hitsugaya knitted his light brows as he perused the store for a pack of decent cigarettes. It was a bit stupid of the cashiers not to keep those locked up, because of under aged smokers like Toshiro. At fifteen, he was only five feet tall but his personality was permanently scarred.

Toshiro spotted a pack of Marlboro Lights and, after making sure no one was watching, shoved it into his pocket. _Child's play, _he thought coyly as he exited the store. _Now, where to next? _Trying to avoid the truest option, Toshiro opted for a stray road hidden under a bunch of pines. It wasn't long before he reached a clearing, where, with a jolt, he saw several children at play. Most of them were skinny and weak, with knobbly knees. But the only girl and the one who looked like the leader seemed fit and well for her age. She had jet black hair that stopped at her cheeks, which were pale.

"Jinta, move it! Work on scoring!" she commanded one of the boys, the scrawniest. "Bulk up if you want to win! Get better and set goals!" she had an authoritative voice.

Toshiro lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply, pleased with his stolen box. These kids probably didn't even know what he was doing. Maybe he was intruding, though. As he thought about it, it felt weirder to stand there and watch little kids play with a soccer ball. It showed that he had no life.

As he stood up to leave, Toshiro was surprised by fingers locking around his arm. Instinctively his fingers clenched and he turned, readying for a brawl, but it was only the girl.

"You shouldn't smoke," was all she said. Toshiro tore his arm away.

"Mind your own business, little girl," he snapped.

"Fine. If you ever need a Breathalyzer, my dad has plenty in the clinic. But don't come by today; it's Onii-chan's birthday."

Toshiro inhaled, then exhaled deeply as he thought about this girl and her obvious naiveté when it came to life. She looked six, seven at best; and here she was contradicting Toshiro about his habits. Absurd.

The young man stomped the cigarette out and walked away, heading back to that miserable place he called home.

* * *

Finally, Renji came through the door holding an instrument case and a large black box. Ichigo's eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what it could be. Rukia found herself wondering slightly as well. A book? No book was three feet long... what was three feet long...

"Oh, that reminds me," said Rukia's sister suddenly, yanking the instrument case from Renji. "Ichigo, I'm going to sing and play a piece for your birthday." She smiled. "Sakura Kiss is its name. I've always played it on my mother's birthday, and Rukia's." Suddenly the room was quiet except for the humming of the fan and footsteps from outside.

Rukia knew Sakura Kiss all too well. It was a lovely violin song that synced perfectly with Akamori's velvet voice.

"I didn't know you played the violin," Renji said as she removed the polished wooden instrument.

"Why do you think I had one, Renji? To look at when I felt bored?"

"..." Renji appeared to be at a loss for words.

"Didn't think so." She stood silently in the center of the room for a few seconds, then rose her arm to grasp the bow. "Reminds me of Renji, sort of..." she muttered. She began a soft tone that jumped higher in some areas; it was prettier than Rukia remembered.

_Kiss, kiss, fall in love_

Rukia smiled as Akamori's arm went nimbly up and down with the bow, guiding it through the music. Renji was dumbfounded, obviously; Ichigo seemed slightly pleased.

_I notice that when I'm with you  
my heart almost skips a beat  
but is it hating? Liking? Or just paranoia?_

Rukia had always known that Akamori was the musical one, the one who could dance and show off. But right now her head was bowed and she looked like a professional violinist.

_When I can see my feelings clearly  
Lady or host, it doesn't matter_

_The reason for which people fall in love  
Is different for everyone but_

_Maybe you're my love  
I want to meet you now  
and give you, a sweet person, a sakura kiss_

_If your heart moves from it  
Let's have a romantic love!_

_More important than the future  
Is the present_

_The delightful spring love is  
A blossoming woman's aesthetic!_

_Hey, maybe you're my love_

At the end of the song, Akamori's thin lips formed a small smile. She tucked the violin back within the folds of its box and strode over to Ichigo and Rukia, looking expectant.

"You rock," Ichigo said. "Can you play the guitar?"

"Only electric," she said, grabbing a cookie from the counter. "Renji plays both, but he stinks like a dead fish in August."

"Ugh!" Renji looked deeply offended. "Where do you get these quips from, TV?"

"Most of them," she said truthfully, leaning against the wall near the book case. "Anyway, how does it feel to be sixteen?" she asked Ichigo, who had been staring at the violin case for quite some time. "Having any manly feelings?"

Ichigo jumped. "Uh... freak, where'd you get that from?"

"Teenage boys are supposed to have really bad... you know, _feelings_."

"None of your business," Ichigo mumbled. That being said, the door creaked open to reveal Karin and another girl, but this one teenage. Her ash blonde hair was pulled up in spiky ponytails and she wore a red lace top with shorts.

"Hey, loser!" she said to Ichigo, smiling wickedly, "Happy birthday." Rukia noticed that the girl's eyes were the same shade of amber as Ichigo's.

"Uhm, Hiyori," he said, pointing suddenly to Rukia, who instinctively stiffened in her spot. "This is Rukia Kuchiki, and Akamori Kuchiki," his finger moved from Rukia's direction to her sister's.

"Ichigo, congrats. You've made your first friend," Hiyori scrutinized with a smile. "Hiyori Sarugaki." She whipped out a hand to Rukia. Rukia shook it softly for a second before the blonde-haired girl pulled away. "Ichigo's dad is my mom's brother," she explained, "and my aunt is Abarai's mother."

Renji's head pulsated. "Terrific..."

* * *

Less than an hour later, the Kurosaki residence buzzed with guests wanting to wish Ichigo a happy birthday. Rukia enjoyed the many people, and they seemed to like her too. Ichigo would open his presents at three o' clock, which irritated her slightly because the paper on the CD was making her fingers sweaty. She had spotted Momo on the porch, chatting animatedly with Orihime about some kind of new clock they were selling at Costco.

"Hey," said the voice of Rukia's best friend, Tatsuki Arisawa. She wore a blue tank top and shorts and her hair was in a ponytail for the occasion. Tatsuki was never one to dress up. "I haven't heard from you in two weeks, I was starting to think your dad had killed you."

Rukia was startled to see her friend's face. "Um, no… I've just been…"

"Busy with Ichigo?" Tatsuki mused, glancing at the redhead, who was a few hundred yards away and surrounded by little kids wanting him to play.

"What?" Rukia did a double take. "For the hundredth time, I am not involved with Ichigo Kurosaki!"

"Yeah, I know. But you don't have to blow everyone else off…" Tatsuki's grey eyes were still and flinty. "For a boy you barely know."

"Listen, Tatsuki, if you felt left out you could've told me," Rukia said, defending herself and her new friend. "If you don't like Ichigo then what are you doing here? That's rude."

"He's a nice guy and all, plus Orihime needed a ride," Tatsuki explained.

"If he's such a nice guy, there's no reason to be so asinine!" Rukia snapped suddenly, overcome by her own emotions. Tatsuki did look slightly startled by her friend's sudden explosion, but nonetheless ready to retaliate.

"Excuse me, I don't know why you just up and dumped me and Orihime!" she seethed. "We called you and you hung up on us!"

"You hung up on _me_!" Rukia amended, "so I figured you wouldn't want a call back! My mistake for thinking that!" she knew she must look angry. She was angry. Who did Tatsuki think she _was? _Coming to Ichigo's birthday party and harassing Rukia! "Tatsuki, this is Ichigo's day. Not yours. So go home before I get really mad at you." It was a little late for that, but Rukia felt obliged to warn Tatsuki.

"Talk to me like that again and I'll kick your ass!" Tatsuki growled as Orihime strolled up.

"Hi guys!" it only took a second for her happy smile to contort into a worried frown. "Rukia, what's wrong?"

"Tatsuki felt like she'd mess up Ichigo's birthday," Rukia said, and her tone was poisonous. "Because I made a new friend!" now, her teeth were bared like some kind of wild dog.

"And threw your old ones out to dry!" Tatsuki retorted. "I'm out of here!" she gave Rukia one last look, her face contorted in pure loathing. Then the athletic girl sprinted around the fence and out of sight, leaving a confused Orihime and an infuriated Rukia behind.

* * *

Toshiro turned on the shower with sore fingers, taking his shirt off first and catching sight of himself in the gold-plated mirror. A muscular young man stared back, but also one covered in bloody bandages. His hair spiked wildly on his head, giving him the look of a derelict. Toshiro's left arm was abundant in bandages that were stained dark brown with dried blood. This was why he wore long sleeved shirts in the summertime. This particular injury had been from a piece of broken glass, and it had happened in the wee hours of the morning when he had forgotten to turn the lights off. The consequences for even the smallest things were severe.

His face was slightly darker than usual, a side effect of the huge bruise on his cheek. It loomed, purple and throbbing, to remind him of the things he had done wrong. Toshiro dropped his pants next and slowly began to unpeel the bandages that lined his arm, his right leg, his chest. On his cheek, not too far from the bruise, was a singed looking grayish circle. A cigarette burn. Even the inside of his cheek stung. He stepped into the shower, letting the hot water rush over his body. The white haired young man moaned with pain, but knew the wounds would soon become infected if he didn't clean them.

Toshiro let the soap drip down his arm in waterfalls; it took a minute before it stung him bitterly. White teeth bore with a sharp breath as it began to sink in, piercing the gash. As soon as the pain subsided slightly, he ran a soap-coated hand down the front of his chest and braced himself for the pain; surprisingly, it didn't hurt as much as the arm had. His leg burned from the inside out as he applied the soap to it. After running his hair through with shampoo and washing the rest of himself, Toshiro turned off the shower and slipped on a pair of boxers, not bothering to dry, then a t-shirt.

The young man scrubbed his teeth with ferocious velocity, making his gums ooze blood. After ridding his mouth of the crimson liquid, Toshiro opened the elaborately carved door that led to his bedroom, which was far from the average teenager's. Toshiro's mother came from an extremely wealthy family, so naturally the home reflected that. However, they had no housekeepers; Toshiro was the only one who ever cleaned.

His cell phone only held one unread voicemail message, and that was from his best and only friend, Momo Hinamori. It had been received at 1:23 PM—when he had been jacking cigarettes from a convenience store.

_Hey, Shiro! I'm on my way to Ichigo Kurosaki's birthday party! Yeah, Ichigo! Isn't that wild!? He's sixteen now! Anyway, I was just wondering if you were okay… I haven't heard from you since Saturday and you looked a little upset. Kira says you're okay, but I wanted to hear it from you, Toshiro. If you need me, you know my number! Lots of love, Momo_

Toshiro wanted to cut his own fingers off. Why hadn't he picked up when Momo had called, so she wouldn't have to be so concerned? He put the cell phone on his bedside table, next to a picture of his treasured white boxer dog, Hyorinmaru. People thought Hyorinmaru had run off when Toshiro was eleven, but that wasn't the real story.

He stretched out across his bed, feigning a yawn for no one but himself. Toshiro knew better than anyone that he needed to be asleep before his father got home or there would be hell to pay.

* * *

"Open ours next!" Renji said, practically throwing the guitar case at Ichigo. Said redhead caught it deftly despite its weight and dropped it on the table, thumbing at the lid of the box with exaggerated apprehension. Then he up and yanked it off to reveal a sleek red and black electric guitar._ ICHIGO _was written across it in spiky black letters.

"This thing is badass," Ichigo said, grinning up and the two. "Where'd you get it?"

"Online," Renji declared. He jerked his thumb at Akamori. "_She _wanted to get you a drum set too."

"Well, he would've liked it. Too bad I sent it by mail," Akamori declared haughtily, shooting the shocked Renji a triumphant look. "That's right."

"If you like their present!" Isshin bellowed from across the yard, you'll love mine!! Ha!"

"Okay, so where is this amazing present?" Ichigo demanded, standing up suddenly. "Up your ass?"

"Check the garage, kid!" he said, "and don't forget to thank me! The monthly payment is 670 dollars!" Isshin swung the garage door open for his son and Rukia, who was following close behind. She felt a bit mediocre holding the still-wrapped CD. She felt ashamed that she hadn't gotten him something nicer.

The feeling intensified when Isshin approached a large object under a sheet. It was long, it was wide, and when the sheet was lifted Rukia recognized it as a BMW.

"What the…?" Ichigo looked surprised but somehow pleased at the same time. "Dad, how'd you swing this?" he ran his fingers along the glossy red paint and the CD felt heavier in Rukia's pocket.

"I dipped into some college funds," Isshin said proudly. "Karin picked it out." He gestured to the front. "You have your learners' permit, right?"

"…Yeah, you took me to the DMV like a month ago," Ichigo reminded, whipping a laminated card out from his pocket. "I can drive during any daylight hour, apparently."

"Why don't you take her out on her maiden voyage?" Isshin suggested, dangling a bunch of silvery keys above his son's head. "You know you want to."

Ichigo sighed. "What if I want to continue enjoying my party?"

"Oh! Rukia, I didn't see you there!" Isshin said excitedly. Rukia didn't find this insulting because she wasn't very unique looking. Plus she was small so it was hard to discern her from a small child in crowds.

"I think it's great that you have a car now," said Rukia, "so are you still taking the train to school?" Orihime would most likely sit with Tatsuki, leaving Rukia by herself.

"Probably," Ichigo stated, opening the door to free a rush of the new car smell that made Rukia woozy. "Leather seats, cruise control… this thing is pretty amazing." He looked satisfied enough. "Thanks, Dad."

Isshin beamed. "You're very welcome!"

* * *

Orihime's house was relatively silent that evening. Sora had gone off to work, leaving his sister to her own confusion. _Rukia and Tatsuki were fighting… but how can that be? It's because of Ichigo, I think. But I thought Tatsuki and Ichigo were friends… oh! Now it all makes sense perfectly. Tatsuki is secretly in love with Ichigo! …that can't be right… I don't like what's going on but there's nothing for me to do about it. Maybe… maybe Ichigo and Rukia love each other and Tatsuki doesn't like that because Rukia spends all her time with… aha! That's it! I, Orihime Inoue, am a junior love guru! There's no love situation I can't decode!_

_Or maybe Rukia just doesn't like us anymore, _murmured a small voice at the back of her head.

_Rukia loves us! Go away, _Orihime commanded, and then silence ensued again.

* * *

When Rukia collapsed on her bed at the end of the day, she usually dished in her diary or snuggled with Chappy. Today she just laid there, thinking of all the things that had happened at Ichigo's. Tatsuki had blown up at her because she had made a new friend. Sometimes she was too defensive, but this had definitely taken the cake. And then she remembered that she needed to be at Akamori's today, but it was eight at night so maybe it was a moot point to think about it.

And then it came back to her that Hisana was pregnant. The fact hadn't really sunk in until now, and what was worse, she had forgotten to tell Akamori about it. A new baby in their already corrupt family. How nice.

She felt the weight of the CD she was going to give Ichigo in her jacket pocket. Maybe he wouldn't want… as Rukia was thinking about this, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, midget." It was him.

"Hi," she said to him, readjusting Chappy behind her head. "Did you have a nice birthday?"

"It was awesome," he said, and Rukia couldn't detect any sarcasm. "Hey, go look outside your bedroom window." Rukia's stomach jumped, but she wanted to know what was going on.

"Why would I do that?"

"Who knows, maybe there's a surprise there or something… you don't have to," he added.

Rukia, whose curiosity was getting the better of her, strode over to the window and moved the eyelet lace curtains slightly to the left. She gasped. Outside in the driveway was Ichigo and his BMW, its crimson tones bloody in the light of the sunset. He swung a long arm up over his head and waved.

"Ichigo, you idiot! What if my dad sees you??" Rukia shrieked.

"It'd be too late then." Before he could say anything else Rukia raced down the stairs. Hisana and Byakuya were nowhere to be seen, which was absurdly lucky. Rukia heaved the door open and sprinted out into the driveway to meet Ichigo.

"Hey," he said in a casual tone.

Rukia couldn't take how stupid he was. She full on slapped him across the face, leaving angry red marks in the shape of fingers.

"What the hell was _that _for?" he demanded, rounding on her.

"Why would you come onto private property?! My dad could have you arrested!" she seethed at him, but he didn't seem even remotely fazed by her anger.

"Well, get in the car."

Silence. "What did you say?"

"Get. In. The. Car," he was scowling at her. The usual.

"Why?" to be harangued to enter a car wasn't a good sign.

"Hey, what's that in your pocket?" Ichigo looked curious now.

"Your birthday present," she said, pulling it out and shoving it in his face. The redhead took the CD and pondered it for a moment.

"Sugarcult, eh? Momo tell you about that?"

"Sort of," Rukia admitted. "You like it?"

"Hell yeah, it's my favorite band," he said matter of factly. "Now, get in the car, I'm taking you to dinner."

"Dinner?" Rukia was dumbfounded. "I already ate at your house."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "You had one lousy hot dog and some macaroni. Big meal." His hand flitted to the car's shiny passenger door, and then he opened it with a flourish. "Where do you feel like going?"

"…Back to bed. Ichigo, go home." Rukia was still getting over the fact that Ichigo wanted her to eat out with him.

"C'mon. It's my birthday," he moaned, faking sadness. "And it'll be totally ruined if you—"

"That's not fair," Rukia snapped, "to make me feel sorry for you." Her eyes became solid blue orbs and she planted her feet firmly on the ground. "Now, Ichigo…"

"'Now, Ichigo' nothing. They serve Blue Bunny Ice cream at Izumi's," he said, and Rukia did feel hungrier by the second. "Nice, bloody steaks… crispy, salty fries… good shakes too—"

"Okay I'll go!" Rukia suddenly decided, shrugging out of her jacket and handing it to Ichigo, who chucked it unceremoniously into the back seat. He slid into the driver's seat and started the car, and Rukia was pleased with how quietly it ran. It took a minute for Ichigo to manage the gearshift, but they were off the property in two minutes flat.

As the car flew quietly down the streets, Rukia remembered that she had slapped Ichigo. "Ichigo?"

He turned left. "Hn?" his tone was soft.

"Why didn't you hit me back?" she asked, turning her gaze on him and hoping he'd return it, and he did.

"What kind of person do you think I am?" he demanded. "I don't go around whacking girls. That's retarded." Ichigo opened up his glove compartment and extracted a tissue. "You have cake frosting at the corner of your mouth."

Rukia went pink and wiped the offending frosting. "So you wouldn't have hit me back?"

"No." They stopped in front of a charming restaurant that looked a lot like a cabin. "I wouldn't have."

"I was testing you," she informed him, "to see if you would."

Ichigo grinned. "I like the way your mind works… munchkin."

* * *

Okay! Whew, that wasn't as long as it should have been. It was choppy near the end because I got writer's block but I really wanted reviews… know what I mean? This chapter wasn't very funny, but it introduced a subplot; Toshiro's. I love Toshiro and everything about him so he had to be a big character (he will be later). Anyway, the song Akamori sang was Sakura Kiss, the string version, which you can find on ProjectPlaylist (dot) com. Ichigo was a bit OOC, but… every character needs to have their moments, right? XD I think I've been doing a pretty good job at keeping Rukia in character. Also, I'd appreciate it if you took a look at my other Bleach stories, including Akamori and Chat Rooms, Bleached. I do take requests, within reason, and I'm pretty good with one shots. Anyway, I'm sure you're all very sick of my rambling on and on about nothing. Please review, and be specific!


	8. Velocity

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me. And after all, you're my wonderwall._ –Oasis

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Rukia chewed idly on the tip of her straw, listening to the jumble of noises. Her redheaded friend was peering quietly at her over his menu, his brows furrowed.

"Is there something on my face or do you feel the need to be an ass?" she snapped, letting the straw twirl wildly around when she let it go from her teeth. Ichigo's features relaxed silently at her blunt statement, and he appeared to be focusing this time.

"What are you getting?" he asked.

"…Soup," Rukia said absentmindedly, not having put any thought in the matter. Ichigo moaned and slapped his menu down on the table.

"Hey, eat something with a little protein." He picked up his fork and brandished it at her, as though she refused to eat at all.

"Fish soup then," she mumbled.

Ichigo was unconvinced. "Have just one bite of steak?" he insisted.

"No." Rukia's tone was firm. She wasn't going to let Ichigo treat her to an expensive dinner, especially since she had decided to come at the last second. That was a very rude thing to do, or so her etiquette book said. "The closest thing to steak I'll take is a cheeseburger."

"…Fine then. Don't expect me to take you out again," he warned, but there was an unmistakable note of playfulness in his voice that Rukia didn't fail to detect. "It'll be rice cakes and caviar for Rukia. Miss Rukia Kuchiki."

"Shut it." Rukia's grip tightened on the glass. "I don't like titles; they make me sound like a total bitch."

Ichigo's amber irises widened exponentially with every word she spoke, clearly taken aback by her language. "Does your mother let you talk like that?"

"No," Rukia said. "She grounds me. Not that I have anything to do, really."

"And what am I, a hunk of beef?" Ichigo said, pretending to be insulted. "Look, if your stick-assed parents don't like me, fine. They can hate me, but it's not their choice who you make friends with…" he bit his lip as the waitress rounded the corner.

"Hi hi hi!" she said overenthusiastically. "Can I get you something to nibble on? Steak fingers, shrimp poppers or extreme fajitas?" her nametag read Miki.

"No thanks," Ichigo said. "I'll get a crab cake on pumpernickel with Swiss. And she'll get a…" Rukia was suddenly ravenous as soon as Ichigo made his decision.

"The same," she cut him off. "And some Sprite."

Miki winked. "Back in a jiff."

Silence ensued for a few moments as Rukia chewed on her straw again, watching the television suspended above Ichigo's head. Apparently, the Urahara Store was hosting a coupon contest or something of the like. That idiot Urahara, he was always thinking up some crazy scheme.

"Hm…" Ichigo's eyes were on his wallet. "Damn…"

"What?"

"Yuzu's been in here again. She likes to leave pictures of herself," he said. "But this time she took my student ID from last year…"

"I'm sorry," Rukia said sympathetically as Miki arrived with their drinks. She set them down carefully on the table and sashayed off to the next customer, who had apparently been here before because he was addressing her as 'babycakes'.

"God," Ichigo moaned, "my dad actually bought a car… that's weird. Last month he couldn't use the stove right…"

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Byakuya eyed his bedridden wife quietly, poring over her milky face. The serpent like veins in her body seemed slightly darker. Earlier today, she had been blissfully able, bustling about the house and cooking for hours on end. It pained him to see her sleeping yet again, not likely to awake for several days. He worried about Hisana, wanting to see her stomach enlarged with his child. But it was not time for that yet...

Rukia was probably reading or writing in that diary of hers. Byakuya had been more than tempted to peek inside but knew better than to poke in her personal life; it hadn't gotten him anywhere last time.

He stood up and tucked Hisana's blankets under her shoulders, planting a light kiss on her cheek; the lips would make him feel like he was violating her. Over the past few months, he had been deeply happy about the conception of this child, which would most likely be their last. Neither of them were getting any younger, physically or otherwise. Byakuya's priorities were simple: Hisana and the children, work, free time. He didn't usually have much of option C, but it was nice.

As he shuffled through the mail, Byakuya noticed a letter addressed in a familiar disordered scrawl. There was no return address, but he knew who it was nonetheless. After peeling the envelope open, he unfolded the piece of paper inside.

_Father,_

_I'm sorry for leaving you, Mother and Rukia. I was hurrying into a lifestyle, and that was a mistake. However, there was a reason for it. Renji and I… he's a good person, Dad, and I hope you'll give him a second chance because I love him. I love you, too, and I want you both to be happy even if you hate each other, which you do. Rukia likes him, too, because she's been to see us. I hope you'll come see us too. Right now, Renji and I are moving my stuff in. It's taking a while but… it'll be worth it, I know it. He's the nicest person you'd ever want to meet, even if he isn't high class… actually, that's what attracts me to him. He's musical, and smart too. No offense, but if you weren't so stubborn I'd still be living there. Renji is so nice, and he wants me to visit—I haven't because I'm worried you won't want me there. I know I've already said it but… please, please give him a chance. Give __me__ a chance._

_Akamori Shirané Kuchiki_

Byakuya's fingers were barely brushing the edges of the paper, but could feel the emotion. Akamori had taken time out of her day to write a letter to them, and for a person like her that was saying something. Maybe he hadn't given his daughter enough credit for her good sense.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Momo knocked softly on the French door that led into Toshiro's house, the other arm folded behind her back in case Mrs. Hitsugaya answered. Her hair was pulled off her face and her white dress was clean and unruffled, so there was no need to be nervous, but it was nighttime and maybe they were busy…

Luckily, it was her best friend who opened the door. A warm wave of relief washed over Momo's body when she saw him. His hair was hanging at wild angles around his face and emerald eyes, which were quizzical. "Mo—"

"Toshiro!" Momo breathed, grabbing his arm. "I was worried about you—oh!" a familiar crimson liquid streaked her fingertips and she pulled them away, shocked. "What happened?" his features had hardened, bringing light to the deep bruise that tore the childish beauty from his face.

"I fell," he said, "it's nothing. You shouldn't be here," he warned, looking back into the house. "School starts in three weeks, there'll be plenty of time to hang out with me then—" he broke off with the sound of approaching footsteps. Behind him stood a pretty woman with straight, orderly black hair and grayish blue eyes. Toshiro had never looked anything like her.

"Oh, Momo!" exclaimed Mrs. Hitsugaya, her blackish hair waving over her shoulders. "It's so nice to see you…"

"Hi," Momo smiled. "How are you?"

By the looks of her, tired and stressed out. "Fine!"

"That's good…"

Toshiro's expression was terribly stony. "Mother, may I speak to Momo alone for a while?"

"…Don't be too long!" his mother said before closing the door softly.

The crickets chirped as Toshiro and Momo stood silently on the porch. He looked irritated; she was hurt by both his appearance and his attitude. On Saturday, they had gone to the movies with Kira, a classmate, and he'd been relatively glad. Now he was bitter and aggravated.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded, rounding on him but still deeply worried.

"Nothing," he said firmly. "Go on home, you can call me."

"I want to see you!" Momo insisted, her brown eyes quivering slightly. "I've missed you! You don't come by anymore! You don't even call me."

"I've been busy," Toshiro said, not seeming even slightly embarrassed over the fact that he was in boxers. "It's for your own good that I'm not… Momo…" he looked down as she clutched his arm again, sea green orbs vacant and unyielding.

"What do you mean by that?" she demanded, "there's nothing wrong with you, Shiro!" she forced her fingers to tighten, even though it upset her. Toshiro, nice as he was, was horribly stubborn.

"You don't understand," he said defiantly, "and even if you did, you wouldn't be listening to me, would you?" his angry expression never faltered as he pulled his bloody arm through Momo's fingers. She let out an infuriated gasp and turned away, the edges of her eyes prickling and her throat closing up.

"Oh, Momo," Toshiro sounded disturbed, "I…"

"I'm leaving!" Momo announced. "Let me know when you want to be Toshiro! Let me know when you stop being a monster!" she practically sprinted down the stairs, her dress stained with blood. Within seconds, she was leaving the property, fully sobbing.

Toshiro stood woodenly on the porch, his eyes closed tightly as to avoid the scene. The sound of a broken bottle from inside stirred him, his chest tightening the way it did when he drank water too quickly.

"Momo," was all he said before he heard it. A loud, air punching noise. Dark, like the moment when you miss a stair on the way upstairs, there is a terrible moment where the air sweeps below you, and you feel woozy, disoriented… a gunshot.

And it had come from inside.

His head snapped up immediately, pieces of hair obscuring his vision with white flashes. Without giving it a second thought he twisted the doorknob open with some difficulty and ran into the foyer… nothing here. The kitchen was next, and that was where he found the scene.

His father, white haired and muscular, held his defenseless mother against the wall. She was alive, and heaving breaths; she was pinned next to a plastery hole in the molding. Toshiro realized that Ryuusuke had shot the wall, just to scare her.

"Bastard," he seethed before lunging at them; he didn't manage to break the grip on his mother but he did knock the gun from his father's hands. Seconds later Toshiro found himself with it, backed up in a corner by Ryuusuke, who had abandoned Hiroko for his son.

"You little shit, want me to give you another bruise, ah?" his hand caught Toshiro's neck, which was easy for him. His son breathed through his nose in a last ditch attempt; one hand free, he nailed his father in the side of the head with the pistol. Infuriated, Ryuusuke tightened his grip from loose to viselike.

"Back off," Toshiro snapped.

"Don't talk to your father like that!" with his free hand Ryuusuke punched him hard on the jaw; Toshiro felt blood spill out out of his mouth, blazing trails down his chin and onto his shirt. He heard Hiroko's worried cries in the corner.

"Shut up, bitch!" Ryuusuke bellowed. It was all a blur then; Toshiro grasping the gun to shoot his father and having it snatched from him. And then Hiroko's scream… after that, nothing.

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Rukia laughed at something Ichigo had said, surprised that she had been so able to get into the evening. Maybe it was all that soda. Maybe it was all the soda, but she found herself totally at ease with the usually annoying redhead. Said Ichigo's hair was mussed and he seemed slightly loopy on the sugar that was surprising Rukia with its potency.

"Hey, you didn't eat anything." After looking down at his empty plate and at Rukia's, Ichigo seemed disappointed. "Sometimes I worry that you'll be dead in a casket next time I see you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rukia snapped. "Just because I don't scarf down every morsel that's offered doesn't mean I'm... what you're implying."

"And just what am I implying?" Ichigo smirked and made a grab for Rukia's cheeseburger; but she was just a tad too fast. After reclaiming her meal, Rukia answered Ichigo's seemingly rhetorical question.

"Anorexia," she said dryly. There was a moment of silence in which the clinking of forks and Ichigo's chewing were the only noises.

"Anorexia? Again, stop making me out to be an asshole." Ichigo swallowed, "I don't think we should be pissing each other off so much. Doesn't seem to be progressive." He turned his fork over to skewer a bunch of French fries with it before continuing. "People like you are interesting. Well, sort of."

"Rich people. People with horses and private spas. People who don't work for a living or whatever..." he sipped his eighth Coke indignantly, peering at Rukia with curious amber eyes.

"Being rich isn't great. For your information, we have no horses and my father thinks spas are pointless. Besides, he works very hard, Ichigo..." she thumbed open her cell phone to the beeping message from her sister, who was wondering what the key ingredients in a cake were.

After texting her back with an angry message informing her to look on the internet and then eat until she grew obese, Rukia questioned Ichigo. "Besides, since your dad is a doctor, aren't you pretty rich yourself?"

"...Doctors only look rich to middle income people, like... say, Renji."

Speaking of Renji...

**Akamori: Oh, yeah? Hah. I bet you can't make a cake either.**

**Rukia: ...I make your birthday cake every year. Oh Rukia, hey!**

**Rukia: Renji, get off my sister's cell phone**

**Renji: Shh, she's coming back**

**Renji: Byeejgjerigjerijgikde**

She looked back up at Ichigo, whose thin mouth was wide in a full on smirk. "Was that Akamori?"

Rukia frowned. "Why does it matter?"

"Never mind then. Have fun fighting about cake… or whatever it is…"

_How did he know?_

Ichigo grimaced. "Damn! It's eleven thirty."

If Rukia didn't know any better, she would've thought her heart had stopped.

"Don't get your Chappy underwear in a knot. I'm sure he's asleep." He seemed completely unruffled.

Rukia was nearly hyperventilating. Hisana had probably noticed Rukia gone, and then told Byakuya straightaway. Rukia had always known she would die and early death but had never anticipate it at the hands of her father. "We've got to go! What if he wakes up and finds me gone? He will probably find his biggest shotgun and come looking for me! If anything or anyone gets in his way, he'll obliterate them! _We're all gonna DIE!"_

After a second, there was no sound and everyone in the restaurant either had his or her eyes on Rukia or the deeply frowning Ichigo.

"Hehe… hi…" Rukia went a violent shade of pink and cowered away from the curious people, some of which had taken out their cameras to snap a picture of her. Rukia thought she saw Ichigo's fist tighten, but she was probably just imagining it.

When Ichigo whipped out his hand and caught her arm, however, her suspicions were destroyed. "We're leaving." He slapped a crinkly twenty-dollar bill down on the table and led her woodenly out of the restaurant.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo… if I ruined…" she felt horribly guilty for ending the dinner that way.

"Some of those guys who were looking at you… are guys from school. Let's just say they're bad news, so it's not your fault." As soon as he reached the BMW, he slid into the drivers' seat with surprising panache.

As soon as they were rolling down the quiet night road, he spoke again. "Why didn't you check the time earlier? We were there for five straight hours."

She glared at him. "Why didn't _you _check the time earlier? You're the one who took me out in the first place, and that's only because you would've honked the house down with that car of yours."

Ichigo let out a soft chuckle and Rukia jumped. It was so rare that she ever heard him laugh… "Relax a little. I'm sure old man Kuchiki was in for a joke anyway."

"…I still think he's going to kill everyone," she mumbled.

"…You think too much," he mumbled, imitating her voice badly.

"You think too little."

"Munchkin."

"Dandelion head." This was just getting stupid.

Surprisingly, he admitted defeat. "Touché, rich brat."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Mother!" Rukia was surprised to see Hisana up and moving around, but was disheartened by her grave expression.

"Good evening, Rukia," she said, attempting to be placid, but the shakiness in her voice was inevitable. "Have a seat." Without asking where her daughter had been, the older woman pointed to a wingback wooden chair across from Byakuya, who held the cordless phone with pale fingers.

Rukia plopped down in the chair. "What's going on?"

"…Hiroko is dead," Byakuya said icily, slamming the phone down rashly. Rukia's system was overcome with a vacant shock of panic that had come to reclaim its spot within her. Her favorite aunt? The sweet lady who loved her and her family so much?

"What?" she choked. "How?"

"Ryuusuke. Ryuusuke shot her," Hisana said blankly, "About an hour ago."

Rukia's head was spinning so hard… "Wh… where's Toshiro?"

"He's being treated in a small clinic near the Urahara Store," Byakuya stated, and Rukia's mind flashed to Ichigo. Coming home to that on your birthday? "In the morning he will come to live with us."

"Uncle Ryuusuke…" she said, remembering the smiling man who'd taught her how to ride a bike. "He's too nice…"

"You know nothing," Byakuya said immediately, "of the instances which he beat and raped his son?" his eyes were flinty and lethal to Rukia's innocent blue ones that had spent the evening looking over the face of her newest friend. She was horrified of the second word, and having it used in the same context as Toshiro… it didn't seem real.

"It's sick," Hisana said, "filthy. He needs to rot in hell for this." Her jaw was rigid but her violet orbs were sad. Rukia knew that she and Ryuusuke, despite their differences, had been good friends. "Rukia."

"…Yes?" the younger child was still reeling over the death of her father's sister.

"Clear Akamori's room of boxes and get some bed sheets from the linen closet." Even in a crisis, Hisana was incredibly precise.

"Yes, ma'am…" the short girl left her seat and began the long walk through the marble foyer, her eyebrows furrowed in distress. What… why had Ryuusuke done that? Shot his wife… and nearly killed his son… the crimes were too terrible for her brain to harbor, so she let them flit off into the confines of it for now, wanting to focus on readying a bedroom for her cousin. She lifted some navy blue sheets from the top shelf and made up the bed, generously shoving many pillows on it.

Akamori had many keepsakes; in other words, she was a pack rat and the room was littered with boxes. Rukia made do by kicking most of them out into the hall, but with one particularly huge one, she just went with closet stuffing. At last, the hodgepodge of her sister's belongings was concealed—mostly.

Rukia then moved to her room and collapsed on her oddly soft bed, shoving her face into the fluffy confines of Chappy. With a jolt she recognized the smell: Ichigo. Yay! She missed him when she was away. They were friends because she got the fact that he could be messed up and weird sometimes.

Hey, Rukia was like that herself.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"You think he got your letter?" Renji asked, biting into a jelly covered bagel and sitting down across from his girlfriend.

"Unless I have a stalker in the post office." She herself was eating a cup of bran cereal, a much healthier breakfast—well; it would be breakfast if they hadn't woken up at three o'clock. "Anyway, did you have fun yesterday?"

"Yeah," Renji scarfed down his bagel and opened the paper. "Nobody died."

"Yay," Akamori rolled her eyes. "And this applies to me… how?" she looked at her meal and didn't eat. Renji said nothing as she stood up quietly and swung an arm around his neck. "Hey," she said lightly into his ear. "All you all right?" his body temperature felt a hundred degrees hotter when her arms snaked around to the front of him and rested on his chest.

He went crimson. "I'm fine." Dropping his gaze back to the paper, Akamori sidled into his seat behind him, her legs wrapped around his torso tightly. "For a girl from a rich family, you sure don't act standoffish…" she smelled soft and citrusy.

"What do you mean?" her sunset colored eyes were gazing smolderingly into his dark amber ones, searching for something.

"It's just that I…" Renji sighed.

"Do you remember how I met you?" she said mesmerizingly, her impossibly long jet-black lashes tickling his neck.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_Renji was one of many men seated at the bar on Monday, his eyes tired and his body even worse. It had been a long day at the office, what with Mr. Kuchiki haranguing him about those stupid term reports. The bartender slid a beer across the table and he drank tirelessly… Renji was twenty-six and he didn't know why his life had barely begun. He lived in a small three-room apartment, working a crappy job as 'Event Logger', so it was his responsibility to be aware about the company's inner workings. Whatever. _

_The evening wore on, but it was horrifyingly slow. Renji drank beer after beer and listened to the toothless old man next to him drone on about his grandson and his disloyalty; the redheaded man realized it would be a stretch to call it listening. Letting the words drift by was more like it… he sighed and stood up silently, swaying a little. Maybe he'd walk home. _

"_Gonna finish that?" said a silken voice. Renji turned to see an incredibly curvy young woman. Her inky hair curled wildly down around her creamy complexion, and paired with her big glowing orange eyes it made for a dramatic appearance. She had an attractive, regal face and a perfect nose. On her bodacious frame was a long wine-red dress with cap sleeves and a lot of lace._

_It took a minute for him to come back to earth, and even longer for him to realize she was referring his beer. "Oh, yeah…" seeing her expression, he went on, "I mean, no…" Renji patted the seat next to him and stared at her as she took a seat, pressing her lips together._

"_I'm so sick of this." Now the girl wore an irritated expression._

"_You work for an asshole too?" Renji raised an eyebrow with an unabashed smile. The girl sent back a blatant grin herself and sipped the beer like a pro. _

"_No, I live with one," she said matter of factly, drumming her fingers on the table and hitting Renji with a scent. It was like an orange or a pineapple, or something, mixed with lavender. Her words processed when he finished inhaling._

"_You're married?" Renji asked in disbelief, his eyebrows going up high. "You look too young."_

"_That's because I am, I'm talking about my father." She grimaced and sat down the now empty beer glass with a resounding 'clang'. "He's a hardass, he bugs me about everything." Her eyes stopped on Renji. "Is your boss like that?"_

"_Yeah." Renji rolled his eyes._

"_It's like he cares, but he doesn't."_

"_Exactly." He sympathized oddly with her. "What's your name, anyway?"_

"_In Japanese, it means 'red forest'. Try to figure it out." The girl blinked slowly and ran a delicate hand through her dark tresses. _

"_Moriaka?" Renji shrugged._

"_You have it backward," she gave a shrewd laugh and waved down the bartender for another drink. "Akamori, it is. Weird, isn't it?" when she turned her eyes skyward, Renji was reminded oddly of a certain man._

"_You look like someone I know," he frowned. _

"_Who would that be?" Akamori questioned, sipping her martini and fiddling with the toothpick. _

"_My boss," Renji said truthfully, popping the olive in his mouth after she flicked it onto the table. He'd always had a thing for green food. _

"_The asshole." She raised a black eyebrow and held the toothpick like a cigarette, as if she were going to stab him with it at any given moment. "Well, I guess the way people look gives away nothing, then. I personally find myself horribly attractive."_

"_I saw that coming," Renji agreed, and he had a sudden fleeting thought. "Hey, you wanna go eat somewhere? I'm starved."_

"_They have food here," Akamori countered, looking slightly uncomfortable. _

"_That's bar food," he reminded, "and I have a car."_

"_That's good," she said sarcastically, smiling all the while. "And I was worried I'd have to live at the bar." Renji didn't want to admit it to her, but he really liked this girl. She was witty, sympathetic, deliciously cynical and gorgeous to boot._

"_Let's get… wait, are you here with someone?" he said, the breath catching in his chest as she jumped down from her chair._

"_I was. I made him leave because he was smashed," she said, the corner of her mouth curling up. "I said that he should have a nice, long drive home. And I hope he did." _

_Deviant, is she? "Let's go."_

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"I remember," he said with a smirk. "I also later that night, after I went out with you."

"It was cliché," Akamori agreed softly, leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw and tightening her grip on his chest exponentially with each one. "But I did enjoy it."

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

_Akamori's cell phone buzzed irritably within her pocket. She punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape and turned over, wishing it would shut the hell up. Finally, she answered it._

"_Hello?" she said blearily._

"_Akamori?" said the voice of the man with whom she'd spent most of the evening. "You forgot your jacket in my car." Damn. _

"_Oh… well, leave it…"_

"_Where do you live? I'll drop it off," Renji offered, already on the four-way intersection between Karakura's four neighborhoods: Yukio, for poor people—Omi, for middle class people—Kimikan for middle-upper class (the Kurosaki's)—and Shimomura, for the millionaires and above. _

"…_Third road," she said, and Renji's jaw dropped visibly. "You live… in… Shimomura?!" he nearly shouted. _

"_Yes." She sounded incredibly stressed. "3832 Amane Boulevard. It's the biggest house, you can't miss it," Akamori explained, and even as he turned Renji was reeling. The address sounded familiar… but didn't they all? He was confused, but as he drove onto Amane everything began to click in his mind._

_The way her cheeks hollowed when she was ticked off. Her asshole father. The stuffed wallet she'd dug through at dinner. Her expensive looking cell phone. _

_Without even knowing it, Renji Abarai had been screwing around with the boss's daughter._

...

Finally, a normal length chap! Sorry about the wait for this, I was just so busy. Anyway, I hope you liked this—**seccaberry **wrote the Rukia dialogue for the dinner scene… I had to be Ichigo… -sweatdrop- anyway! Thanks to shuusuke for going back to review each chapter. And thank you to all who have reviewed this! Keep them coming!


	9. I Forgot To Tell You

* * *

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_Pop the cork, a champagne glass; raise to the future, tip to the past. Thank the Lord for the friends He cast in the play He wrote for you._ –Ellis Paul

* * *

Byakuya sat again at his wife's bedside as she slept fitfully, as she had done since eight o'clock the previous evening. She had been fine over the past few weeks but yesterday she had been found on the porch unconscious, holding one of her romance novels. He missed her days of unlimited splendor, when they spoke at length about many things, from world health to T.S. Eliot.

But as he saw her here, lethargic and in an unhappy sleep, he wondered if those days would ever be back.

When Byakuya first met Hisana, he was thirty and she sixteen. His boss was throwing a wine mixer and had invited the Kuchiki heir, wishing to discuss business capital with him. That was back when he was a mere intern. Now as president, he remembered the day on which he'd first seen his wife.

"_It's a nice place!" Ukitake said admiringly, glancing up at the stone mansion with surprised brown eyes. "How do you know this man?" _

_"He is... the vice president," Byakuya said after a moment of thinking. "Do you find it surprising that I would know such a person, Ukitake?"_

_"No, not really," said the white haired man truthfully, shrugging. "I was just wondering." _

_"I see." Byakuya frowned and readjusted his navy tie, which he'd paired with a charcoal suit and silver cuff links. It was formal attire, surely, but he had an underlying suspicion that his boss would be dressed much more elegantly. "If you don't mind my asking, how were **you** invited to this?"_

_Ukitake grinned and replied, "I work in accounting, and Hisagi told me about it. I asked the boss himself and he invited me."_

_**How simple... **thought Byakuya sagely. He had put in several extra hours that week to be considered for an invite. It sounded pathetic to scrounge for a place at a small get together, but he knew that this would get him into conversations with the company's most important. Being wealthy was his objective, because after that many doors were open to him. These included the privilege to marry a woman from a well known family, and to be comfortable._

_"Where did you buy that outfit?" Ukitake questioned. "I looked everywhere for something like that."_

_"This is my father's," Byakuya said truthfully. "He left his clothing to me in the will. I'm afraid I don't know where it came from." The dark haired man pressed his lips together and tightened his fist; Ukitake meant well, but he was too laid back to be good company for someone like him. Byakuya wanted silent, intelligent companions, but such people were very hard to find. As much as he spurned admittance to this fact, he lacked charisma._

_Finally the familiar man opened the door. His hair was brown and unkempt, shadowing the lenses of his glasses. Byakuya knew him as Sosuke Aizen, the vice president._

_"Hello, Mr. Kuchiki. Mr. Ukitake." He sounded slightly surprised about the latter but led them in all the same. A modern living room greeted them, but judging from the sounds, this party was taking place outdoors. Correct, for Aizen led them out onto a spacious, decorated lawn immediately. How charming... and yet, how awkward. _

_"I'll have my housekeeper get you drinks, whatever you'd like." He was calm but there seemed to be some hidden intuition behind the brown orbs. Byakuya picked it up but didn't elaborate._

_"Mai tai!" Ukitake decided._

_"...Scotch," Byakuya said. He had never been an avid drinker, but it was best to stay in Aizen's best interests. The vice president strode off to the side of the awning. _

_And then he saw her._

_There, leaning against the pillar, was a young woman with deep black hair and fathomless blue eyes like pools, pools one gazed at but didn't think of jumping in and ruining the calm beauty. Her face curved upward, into the dark hair that fell over her face in the form of one strand that strikingly contrasted with her ivory skin. Her eyes were large and circular, and she gazed out at the overcast afternoon with a vacant disruption. Her nose was thin and small, like her mouth and the rest of her. She was a striking girl, even wearing a plain cotton dress, but her expression was that of unhappiness, even with her relaxed position._

_Aizen spoke to her and gestured to the two men, which she responded to with a simple nod before hurrying off, skirt in her hands. The VP approached his workers again._

_"They'll be here in a moment," he said proudly, as if he were the one working. Byakuya's eyes were on the pillar where she had been, a frown creasing his features. What was she doing here, with a face angelic enough to be nobility? He himself had come from such a family, one in which physical beauty was prized, but looks had never been his sole focus._

_"Kuchiki?" said Ukitake._

_"Yes?" Byakuya said stonily, shooting a blank look in his direction._

_"That's the Harumei girl, from Yukio." The name of the neighborhood momentarily surprised him. This young woman was a product of the lowest social class, the bottom of the pyramid. She had been born to kiss the feet of people above her--nobles included, and as the Kuchiki heir thought of this it made him feel faintly for her. "Her name's Hisana."_

_And such a musical name. "Yes."_

_"The kid works two jobs, that's got to be tough." Two? Waiting on someone like Aizen hand and foot was haranguing enough, so Byakuya couldn't quite picture her as anything else. She was so beautiful and whole, but as he had looked at her there was something hidden beneath her eyes: a deep, brooding turmoil. He himself had never lived in poverty... what must that be like for a girl so frail-looking?_

_And just as he was thinking of her, the dark haired maiden rounded the corner, a tray in her hands and her eyes down. On the tray rested Ukitake's colorful drink and Byakuya's plain beverage, and she appeared to be having trouble with it. Seconds later it began to teeter dangerously, and without thinking he dashed over. They toppled over, Ukitake's first. Both drinks soiled his suit and Hisana was terrified._

_"I..." she choked out, her face invaded by the color red. "Please accept my dearest apologies."_

_"I don't," Byakuya said simply. A gasp escaped her small lips and she looked like he had slapped her. "accept these apologies, because nothing that happened here today is your fault."_

_Realization slowly dawned on her face and was shortly replaced by modesty. "I knocked the tray over, milord..."_

_"Lord? I am no such thing." The pairs of blue eyes met for a moment. "I am an intern."_

_Hisana's lips opened slightly. "I... what shall I do now?"_

_"Sit down over there and we'll discuss this," he said, still expressionless but using a voice toned with slight warmth. _

_"I'm not allowed to speak to higher-ups," she said quietly, "and your job's more important than talking to a maid."_

_Big blue eyes looked up at him, and with a jolt Byakuya realized how young she looked. Fourteen, fifteen? Feeling like a pedophile, he looked off into the distance as Hisana took a seat near the awning on which she had been leaning. Feeling slightly detached from the moment now, Byakuya shifted his eyes to Ukitake, who was doing a rather annoying pantomime act for a slur of visitors. Deciding that Hisana was more interesting, he turned back to her._

_"You're... Sosuke's housekeeper." _

_"Yes." She seemed slightly ashamed._

_"He's a good man," Byakuya amended softly, "very... refined. There's no better business." He tried to smile at her, but his lips had not formed such a shape in a while so it came out as a tight grimace. _

_"I'd like to have no business with him at all," she murmured. Byakuya studied her face carefully, looking for any signs of mistreatment. But there were none, just tones of irritation in her soft white cheeks. _

_"Why is that?" he frowned, not in anger but thought. Although it was deeply profane, he lusted for her. She was... real. There was no other way of putting it. All the women he'd known... were power-hungry, ambitious and scornful of him for not marrying earlier. Occasionally one would try a bit too hard, but he was always a gentleman._

_"He is... very... controlling, as if he owns me." Hisana's grip tightened slightly on the arm of her chair. _

_"Quit." Byakuya stated. _

_"Uhm... what do you... quit?" she was startled by the one word, as if this were the first time she had ever heard it._

_"If you don't like your job, find a new one." It had never been an option for him, and helping Hisana gave him a sense of self justice. "I'm sure you could." That last bit he added truthfully, because other than the recent blunder she seemed to be working hard: he had seen his face on the floors and counters. "What's the second one?"_

_"I'm a waitress on the weekends," she stated softly, pulling apart a blade of grass. "My tips are mediocre, but most people are stingy nowadays." Dropping the shreds of grass, she smiled. "Oh well." _

_"You're happy with that job?" Byakuya questioned, as if he knew much about employment; his father had basically given it to him. _

_"The people are nice to me." She smiled, looking woebegone. "Do you like yours?"_

_"Hm?" this sudden question surprised him; no one had ever really asked about his profession straight to his face. "I'm fine with... what I do." Byakuya couldn't find another way to phrase it. _

_"That's good." Her voice was soft and feminine, but not shrewd or provocative. It was colored with stark innocence, purity that was plain. "Well, I'd better get back to work. I liked talking to you, um...?" Hisana wanted his name._

_"Byakuya." He turned away, but rethought his actions. "Byakuya Kuchiki."_

_The dark haired young woman smiled and turned to leave the yard, re-entering the mansion through the back door. Byakuya found himself staring at it, as he had done with the pillar, and shook his head. _

_This was ridiculous... she was a child, a little girl, and he was staring after her like a... a... disgusted, Byakuya knitted his brows and turned back to the crowd, where Ukitake was waiting for him, looking slightly jarred._

_"...Kuchiki?" he said uncertainly._

_"Yes?" Byakuya felt like slapping him, but he didn't. This feeling of anger was deeply childish. _

_"She's a nice girl for sixteen," he added a slight emphasis to her age and sipped his drink, "but whatever works for you is fine, I guess." The white haired man shrugged._

_"I don't have intentions, if that's what you're implying." His bluish eyes were flinty and cold, baring down upon the man who dared to entertain such notions about him._

_"I was just saying that a man like you could have a lot of beautiful women, and you don't have to--" seeing the look on his associate's face, Ukitake shrugged again. Byakuya's shoulders tensed, readying himself to retaliate. "Let's just drop it."_

_"Yes, let's," Byakuya pressed his lips together and blinked hard. Upon opening his eyes his heart quivered; she stood only a few yards away now, speaking to her boss with a determined expression. His grimace softened into a slightly prideful expression, but underneath it lay a deep self-disappointment. When she had come into his line of sight his nervous system had jolted, another perverse reaction. This was getting to be... insane._

_"Kuchiki," said Aizen suddenly, and the dark haired man was inwardly startled, "can I have a word?" Hisana was gone now; she was refilling a pitcher near the dessert table._

_"Of course..." he replied cordially, his eyes still locked on her. Tearing himself away and turning to Aizen, Byakuya found himself following him around the tree to the brick wall, that was covered in lattice. The white wood was entwined with dark ivy, giving it a slightly sinister look. They were silent for a moment as Byakuya sipped his scotch and Aizen looked out at the sky._

_"How would you feel if you were offered some sort of stock option... sharing program? Would that do anything for you?" the VP questioned from behind his glasses. _

_Byakuya felt a sickeningly pleasant blow to his stomach. __"I'd enjoy that, yes... why the sudden consideration?" he had used the word once already, and it was a good one for the situation._

_"I don't think I've been challenging you enough," he said, "and your calling is not in a cubicle, Kuchiki."_

_"Thank you." Byakuya's eyes roved back over to the slur of guests, drinking and carrying on like lunatics as Hisana catered to their every whim. It was somewhat sickening. "I'll do my best." _

After that, she had been the only thought in his mind. The only one who haunted him, and the one who made him hate himself for lusting after a child. Byakuya had loved Hisana from that day on, but it had been months later when he finally told her so. His mind had been plagued by dreams, and followed by sleepless nights, and it had nearly driven him insane.

As he slowly climbed up the corporate ladder, the parties at Aizen's house took up more and more time on his calendar, and every single time she was there serving food, cleaning... it had made him sick, knowing that he should put her out of his mind and keep her away. Finally, at one party, he ventured down to the lake for some air and there she had been, her skin like marble in the moonlight. They spoke for what felt like an hour but was barely minutes.

_"Hisana..." he said softly, his face impassive and the veins in his arm prominent as he clutched a rock. "I... even though I've known you for a short time... you are my best friend." Her face was thoughtful momentarily, but seconds later it was the most vivid red he had ever seen._

_"How can..." Hisana said, looking frustrated. He knew she understood. "How can that possibly be? We're..._ different,_ you know." Neither of them were bold enough to throw the term around, but it was undeniable--the only reason he didn't skip these parties was because of her._

_"I've known you for over a year now, and... though that isn't long, I enjoy you..." Byakuya wasn't sure who he was reasoning with, himself or Hisana. Maybe it had been to early to tell her his feelings... and yet he felt like time was running out. _

_"I do love being around you, you're very kind," she smiled wistfully, but shook her head. "But I don't see why you would want to be friends with someone like me." She dipped a finger in the water and moved it around for a moment, then submerged her entire hand. As soon as it surfaced, Byakuya saw a shining, smooth stone in her palm. "May I see that one?"_

_He handed her the stone that he had been squeezing. "I don't see why you'd want to make a fire in this heat."_

_"That's not what I'm trying to do," Hisana shook her head and opened her palms again, showing him the rough, craggy rock and the shining stone. "Do you see the resemblance?" her eyes were emanating within their pupils. Byakuya saw immediately what she meant._

_"You refuse to see in color," he said quietly, "it seems you prefer black and white, where everything is stark and obvious. Even I know that there's more to a person than what meets the eye." He picked up the beautiful stone and held it up to her. "If this is meant to symbolize me... you must look closer." _

_Hisana examined the stone, her eyebrows knit. Realization took a while to dawn on her. "It has... tiny cracks in it..."_

_"And the only reason you think it is beautiful," he mused, "is because of what you see at first glance. When you really know a person, their flaws are obvious. It's up to you whether or not you can overlook them." There was a moment of silence during which she pondered his words, the sentences clicking in her mind, perfectly in sync with their meaning. "Hand me the rough one." _

_Hisana nodded and dropped the rock into his fingers, curiosity obvious on her features. Pleased with his explanation, Byakuya proceeded. "This one appears... troubled. It is quite wise, having been trodden on by beings higher than it." He felt it described her perfectly. "Look closely." She lowered her face to the rock, and her sweet breath lingered as she viewed it. _

_"It's... shining..." when magnified by the diminished distance, the rock had tiny pinpricks of gems inside it. _

_"So, what I'm saying is... those who appear beautiful are somewhat flawed..."_

_"And those who are appear flawed are beautiful," she finished with a somber look. That was the basic concept, but... there was so much more than that, to her and to the metaphor. _

_Byakuya smiled slightly, against his better judgment. "It's more than beautiful." The sky was pitch dark now, the moon hanging low to the ground with the clouds. It was the kind of night he had always enjoyed, but had never had the time to experience fully._

_"Sometimes," Hisana said quietly, "I wish I were the moon. So I could shine and be thought of as... lovely."_

_As soon as the words left her lips, he replied, "There's no need to wish for that. You are lovely." She turned to look at him, nothing with surprise on her visage. Byakuya looked back, expressionless, to tell her he meant it and there were no hidden intentions. They were good friends, despite the fact that he was just under twice her age, and he loved talking to her._

_"You're too nice to me," Hisana shook her head, "sometimes I wonder if this is some colossal joke, you know? But when I look at that face, it's never a joking one..." she held the rocks in her hands, one over the other, and her feet were curled under her on the ground. _

_"So you're saying I have no sense of humor?"_

_"What?" she jumped and stared at him._

_"It was... a joke," he smirked slightly. Hisana frowned but then the expression softened into a slight smile._

That night had been a turning point for the two of them - she had always been the only one he wanted. But now, as she lay weak and tired upon her bedcovers, Byakuya wondered if those days had been spent in vain.

* * *

"Renji, wake up..." Akamori murmured, patting his back.

"I touched her once, one time, that's it..." Renji said in his sleep. What could he be dreaming about? Akamori rolled her eyes and sat up in bed, a romance novel in her fingers. This was the one Hisana had given her for Christmas the previous year, and she had never read it - now, it was one of the last connections she had to her family. "I'm not going to eat you, Mr. Penguin..." this was followed by a rather loud snore.

"RENJI!" she hollered, causing several birds on a nearby telephone line to flee. The red haired man stirred and looked at her with weary brown eyes.

"I was having," he said excitedly, "the best dream."

"I could tell." Dayglow eyes roved over the bedroom. "This place is a mess..." her lips curled. "I like it."

Renji nodded and turned on the television, his hair wild around his face. She liked him like this, regular bed-headish, because it freed her from her own life. Besides, he was funny and nice to her. What more could she... want...

"I have to tell you something," it had been eating at her conscience for days, driving a wedge between her and the rest of the world.

"Tell me you bought shaving cream yesterday," Renji's head whipped forward so quickly he almost cricked his neck.

"That's not it," Akamori's stomach churned unpleasantly.

"Well then, what is it?" he moved closer to her and took her wrist in his hand. The gesture did not ease her anxiety. "Is it good news or bad news?"

"Sort of... sort of both." She shrugged and tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it was there to stay. She couldn't meet his eyes and it felt a hundred degrees hotter in the tiny room.

"Tell me," Renji said.

As she looked into those eyes, Akamori felt like dropping over dead. He would be so mad at her. "I'm... I'm pregnant," she whispered, beginning to cry.

* * *

"You SMOKE!?" Rukia nearly screamed.

Toshiro took a long drag on the cigarette and raised an eyebrow. "You didn't know that?" he looked oddly regal holding it, but Rukia missed the little white haired boy who thought smoking was nasty. She shook her head lightly, eyes still on the cigarette. "Well, now you do." He exhaled and dropped the cigarette butt into the bushes below, repositioning himself upon the windowsill.

"It's not a good thing, you know," she reminded, looking at the glowing embers that lie in the leaves. "It hurts your lungs."

"The government knows nothing," he stated darkly, picking up a black cell phone from Akamori's former mattress. His sea foam eyes pondered it for a moment, and then he tapped out a message on the keys.

"Momo again, huh?" Rukia smiled sympathetically. Toshiro's best friend had been sending endless apologies, and his inbox was painfully clouded. He nodded once and sat down, his eyebrows knit as always. He hadn't been this way since ... since his parents had moved away from Shimomura and into Kimikan, since a smaller house meant more money on hand. Before then, the entire family had been perfect.

"School starts in a week, right?" he questioned, looking over at her through his peripheral vision.

"Yeah," she confirmed, picking at a bit of peeling paint on the wall. "Did you get your package yet?"

"Pardon?" the white brows went up so far they almost disappeared into his hair.

"They ship your schedule, your uniform, your dorm number..." Rukia was surprised he didn't know this yet, when a notification had been mailed three weeks ago. With a slight jolt she realized he was still living with his parents at that time, and it might not have gotten to him. "I'm on the Green Team," she announced.

"Good," he grimaced. "How many are there?"

"Three. Red, Green and Blue." She gave him a wry smile and read over her schedule:

"NAME: KUCHIKI, RUKIA GENDER: F GRADE: 10 DORMITORY #: 423A. DIVISION: GREEN

_**Course Title:** Literature/Language 10. **Instructor:** Madarame, Ikkaku. **Room:** 244.  
**Course Title:** Algebra II. **Instructor:** Ise, Nanao. **Room:** 327.  
**Course Title:** World Cultures. **Instructor:** Ochi, Arane. **Room:** 942.  
**Course Title:** Chinese Language. **Instructor:** Fon, Shaolin. **Room:** 574.__  
__**Course Title:** Physical ED, Health. **Instructor:** Shiba, Kukaku. **Room:** Gymnasium.  
**Course Title:** Lunch/Study Hall. **Instructor:** Madarame, Ikkaku. **Room:** 244.  
**Course Title:** Chemic Science. **Instructor:** Hisagi, Shuuhei. **Room:** 392.__  
**Course Title: **Home Economics. **Instructor: **Shihoin Yoruichi. **Room:** 1000."_

Toshiro snorted. "Cooking. Lovely." With a flick of the lighter he set another one ablaze, raising it to his mouth and enjoying it shamelessly. Although Rukia found smoking disgusting and wrong, she somewhat envied Toshiro for having an outlet, something to keep him busy. She herself had no distinguishing talents or quirks; she wondered how she had managed to make even the slightest amount of friends.

"My mom picked your classes," she informed him, slightly wary of his response. But he just nodded and took a drag, his emerald orbs on the sunrise. Whenever she came in here, he was looking out the window. It made her curious but she knew better than to ask him.

"I wonder if I'll have to share a dormitory..." he sighed thoughtfully. Rukia jumped at the opportunity for conversation.

"Well, I hope not. You don't even like sharing towels." With a wistful smile, Rukia's eyes wandered to a book on the bedside table with a sinister yet beautiful eye on the cover, its title written in an elegant italic font.

"The Host?" she raised an eyebrow. "You're reading that?"

"It's interesting," he amended blankly, "I think your sister left it here."

"I doubt that." Rukia shook her head. "She doesn't like to read books, she likes to live them." Akamori always had been a bit of a drama queen, and sometimes she wondered if she was a masochist - in this family, going for someone of Renji's caliber was the social equivalent to the term 'playing with fire'.

"Well then, it must be your mother's." Toshiro shrugged and tipped the ashes off. "It's unique."

He was quiet as Rukia studied him. His entire body was paler than she remembered, with dark shadows lingering under his eyes. They were nearly gone now that he had been getting sufficient sleep, but were noticeable all the same. All the childish roundness had disappeared, revealing hollowed cheeks and marionette-carved lips. Those he had gotten from his mother - Akamori shared the same basic visage. His shoulders had tightened more, and he was muscular - but still unhealthy. Dark bruises ran the length of his arms, and his neck was covered in sinister finger marks. There wasn't one inch of him that was clear, save his nose and forehead, and it scared her a lot. But all he would do was tell her it was nothing, just like always.

Toshiro sighed. "Maybe I should eat something." With one swift movement he flicked the cigarette out of sight and turned to his cousin.

"Uhm, yeah!" Rukia said nervously. "Definitely." She tried not to look like an idiot, but being family Toshiro saw past the flimsy disguise. Luckily he was respectful enough to overlook her blunders as they made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Pancakes," she announced, thrusting at him the meal Hisana had prepared. He took it and with a resounding noise placed it on the table. When thrown a fork he began to eat ravenously. Rukia did the same, but with less fervor, as she had dipped into her secret food stash for a Twix bar earlier.

* * *

"I can't stand this," Ichigo declared, shooting an evil glance his father's way. "You idiot. Contacts don't cost that much!" he roared, tugging on the wiry glasses he had been forced to wear.

"Well, I like to conserve," Isshin amended, though unsuccessfully, because Ichigo still looked slightly insane. "Besides, you look very intelligent."

"Like a nerd," Ichigo muttered as a placid Yuzu walked over.

"You look like a scientist, Ichi-nii!" she stated, poking the lense. "Are you gonna wear them all the time now?"

"No way," he said.

"...I'm sure you'll love bumping into things," Karin shrugged, her eyes glued to some form of sports book. "Either that or you could get laser surgery, which costs a lot more."

"Since when do you know so much about eyes - Mother, our daughter is following in Daddy's footsteps, we Kurosaki's will be doctors togeth-"

"Dream on." Karin snapped her book shut and glared. "Anyway, stop talking like she can hear you, it's embarrassing." Steely blue eyes warned him to shut up, and Isshin pouted. If he thought _that _was cute he had another thing coming.

"All right," Ichigo whipped the glasses off and nearly slammed them in their case, "I'm only wearing these in class, got it? Let's go home..." he exhaled, tired of today. They had been running around, doing stupid errands since eight that morning. Sometimes Ichigo hated his father; he was way too clingy.

All righty then! Thanks for the reviews last chap, guys! I was originally aiming to make this 6500 words long, but in the end that proved to be way too much for me. Sorry, I'm no elitist... all right, well, a lot of ByaHisa and RenMori, but IchiRuki reappears next chap! How do you like them apples?! I was inspired by Titanic music for this chapter. Odd, I know, but whatever moves me moves me. I work hard on these chapters, so I'd really like it if you reviewed. Hits don't mean anything, people! Ah, well. Au revoir! -Craven


	10. Oath

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right.  
I hope you have the time of your life. _

–Green Day

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**\l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

"Something stinks," Rukia remarked, crinkling her nose, "like stale French fries."

The pale young woman lay stretched out on her futon, one foot curled over the other, in a plain flannel nightgown and slippers.

"I wonder if it has anything to do with the French fries I'm eating," Toshiro said with the lightest seasoning of mockery, sliding another fried potato slice into his mouth.

He wore a black shirt and gray sweatpants, his small feet encased in knee socks. His snowy hair was oddly disarrayed for five in the evening. "By the way, have you heard from your sister?"

"No," she replied, but sat up. "Why?"

He shook his head. "I just have a strange feeling she's getting herself into trouble." His dark emerald orbs were thoughtful as he chewed slowly the French fry they'd been talking about. "But then again, this is Akamori we're talking about."

Rukia allowed a grin. "True." She waited with an outstretched arm for one of his fries, but his expression was solid and it seemed to be saying, 'I don't think so'. The elfin Kuchiki laid back down and looked for patterns in the ceiling. "Y'know, Toshiro, it's fun hanging out with you like this."

"Mm," he replied tonelessly, followed by more chewing noises.

She figured trying to establish a conversation with him was a moot point, and stared at her own greasy burger whose leaking cheese dropped on her nightgown. Luckily, Byakuya hadn't tried to cook in Hisana's place and had grudgingly sent her out for fast food. It normally made her sick, but today it was oddly appetizing.

"So, did you get the package?" she asked, the thought having flitted across her mind yet again.

"I did, we're on the same Team." His eyes darkened slightly. "I hear it's for... average students. How irritating."

"You're smarter than that!" she allowed, trying to quench his absentminded thirst for attention. "Can I see your schedule?"

The small young man uttered some angry words and dug around in his pockets, handing the crumpled piece of paper to her:

NAME: HITSUGAYA, TOSHIRO. GENDER: M GRADE: 10 DORMITORY #: 356A. DIVISION: GREEN.

_**Course Title:**_ _World Cultures. __**Instructor:**_ _Ochi, Arane. __**Room:**_ _942  
__**Course Title:**_ _Algebra II. __**Instructor:**_ _Ise, Nanao. __**Room:**_ _327  
__**Course Title:**_ _Literature/Language 10. __**Instructor:**_ _Madarame, Ikkaku. __**Room:**_ _244  
__**Course Title:**_ _Chinese Language. __**Instructor:**_ _Fon, Shaolin. __**Room:**_ _574  
__**Course Title:**_ _Physical ED, Health. __**Instructor:**_ _Shiba, Ganjyu. __**Room:**_ _Gymnasium.  
__**Course Title:**_ _Lunch/Study Hall. __**Instructor:**_ _Madarame, Ikkaku. __**Room:**_ _244  
__**Course Title:**_ _Chemic Science. __**Instructor:**_ _Hisagi, Shuuhei. __**Room:**_ _392  
__**Course Title: **__Home Economics. __**Instructor: **__Shihoin Yoruichi. __**Room:**_ _1000_

"That's good," she remarked, a soft smile coming over her. "You're in almost all of my classes. Otherwise it would just be me and Ichigo." She handed it back to Toshiro, who slipped it quietly into his pocket and continued to eat – and there was over half of a carton of fries left. Man, he was a slow eater. "So, you don't want to be on the Green Team? It looks fine to me."

He let out a soft sigh. "I really don't mind which Team I'm sorted into, Rukia." He set his plate on the carpet and pulled a large black blanket over him. "And the only reason I stayed in here is because your sister's posters are... disturbing."

Rukia shrugged. "That's true, I suppose." She pulled her giant Chappy pillow toward her and snuggled into it. "But it is more fun to stay here, isn't it?"

Toshiro sighed. "Go to sleep, Rukia."

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

"Ichigo, my oldest! Where are your glasses?!" Isshin demanded, his brown eyes huge and freaked out. "Don't tell me you gave them to that pretty little girlfriend of yours." One of his eyes closed in a wink.

Ichigo deadpanned. "Rukia is not my girlfriend, you perv. I broke the glasses."

He bit into the PB&J he had just made and felt the jelly slink through his mouth, brow furrowed and eyes closed.

Isshin sounded despondent, his voice a harsh rasp. "But... _why_?" he was whimpering in disbelief. Honestly, how old was he? Forty-something? Ichigo rolled his eyes and tore the crust off with his teeth. "Why are you so mean to me?" he whined.

"You're annoying."

Isshin made a doleful noise. "Well, go find your sister at least. She told me she was going out to play soccer but I haven't seen her in a few hours."

Ichigo's eyes slipped open. "Karin's gone?" he turned slowly to his father, who stood woodenly near the door.

He nodded in response. "I told her to be back by five!"

With a glance toward the clock, Ichigo's eyes flared.

**8:57 PM**.

"She didn't say anything?" the sandwich went limp in his fingers, but he didn't care about a multi flavored pastry right now.

Where the hell was Karin?

She was always home when she was supposed to be.

Many different scenarios flashed through his head, none of them very pretty, and he tried the best he could to push them out. But it wasn't working. It wasn't working.

The scraping of the chair's legs across the linoleum it had already scarred, the thundering footsteps of his son, a rush of wind that came with the door slamming. These were the things Isshin heard, but didn't see.

"Hmfh!" he humphed proudly. "My son is so... forceful!"

It was balmy and moist this evening, but the weather didn't faze Ichigo Kurosaki in the slightest. Determined amber eyes probed the clinic's neighboring flora – after a moment, he concluded she wasn't climbing trees.

He knew she had gone out for soccer, but that wasn't the only thing she did. There was baseball. And softball too. His nervous system was shaky and numb right now.

_Shit, Karin. Where are you?_

Ichigo yanked on his jacket, which he had thrown over his shoulder in a hurry. The neighborhood was deserted, all but a small black dog that sniffed idly at the trash heap. He focused on his sister and wracked his brain for any other places she hung out. The sandlot? Empty.

Batting cages? Empty, except for a few teenagers he recognized faintly from school.

"Hey!" he called to them.

"Ichigo, my man!" Keigo Asano said, stepping into view.

He was smaller than Ichigo, with flipped out brown hair. "Want a drink? I've got Mountain Dew." He grinned.

"I'm trying to find my sister. Have you seen her today?"

"Karin, you mean? She went to the Mini Mart with Kunieda and Mizuiro for some Twinkies. Your sister's cool for a little kid, you know?" Keigo let out a laugh, and Ichigo considered it. Mizuiro was a seedy, slightly nerdy boy and Kunieda... she was a track star.

They didn't seem too threatening...

"You're sure they went to the Mini Mart?" Ichigo's jaw bucked.

"I just talked to them, like, a minute ago." Keigo shrugged and leafed through a porn magazine that made Ichigo shudder slightly. Naked women made him uncomfortable. "So, how's life?"

Ichigo shook the images from his mind. "It's okay, Keigo." He leaned against a nearby telephone pole. "When did you guys decide to start hanging around with a six-year-old?"

Keigo seemed slightly surprised. "Well, she was out here like, every day alone. Kunieda said someone'd try to take her if we didn't keep an eye on her, and since she was your sister it made sense." His fawn eyes were innocent, and Ichigo's chocolate ones simmered down a bit.

His stance relaxed.

"Want a soda?"

Ichigo eyed the carbonated beverage. "I... could go for one," he allowed, cracking it open with a refreshing fizz. The substance trickled down his throat, and the swallow was satisfying. He hadn't had soda in a while. "So, why are you hanging around at the batting cages?"

Keigo shrugged. "It's free to get into and it doesn't close. Plus, not many cops care about baseball." He continued flipping through his magazine. "Did you get your pack?"

"My pack?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow. "Keigo, what are you on?"

"Not that," Keigo laughed. "The school package thing." He yanked a piece of paper out of his pocked. "I made the Blue Team."

"You don't make the team. It has to do with your entrance score."

Ichigo took a look at the schedule.

NAME:

ASANO, KEIGO

GENDER:

M

GRADE:

10

DORMITORY #:

436A.

DIVISION:

BLUE

_**Course Title:** Algebra I. _

_**Instructor:** Omaeda, Marechiyo._

_**Room:** 284. _

**Course Title:** World Cultures.

_  
**Instructor:** Tetsuzaemon, Iba.  
_

_**Room:** 327_

_**Course Title:** Literature._

_**Instructor:** Yadomaru, Lisa.  
___

_**Room:** 54._

__

**Course Title:** Chinese Language.

_  
__**  
Instructor:** Fon, Shaolin.  
_  
_**Room:** 574._

_**Course Title:** Physical ED, Health._

_**Instructor:** Shiba, Kaien.  
_  
_**Room:** Gymnasium. __  
**Instructor:** Tetsuzaemon, Iba.  
__**  
Room:** 327. _

**Course Title:** Lunch/Study Hall.

**Course Title:** Chemic Science.

_I**nstructor:** Kurotsuchi, Mayuri, and aide Nemu.  
__**  
Room: **13. _

**Course Title: **Home Economics.

_**Instructor: **Shihoin Yoruichi. **  
**__**  
Room:** 1000._

"Hm." Other than that, Ichigo handed it back wordlessly. The blue team's schedules were weird looking.

"Hey, have you seen Tatsuki lately? She, the lovely and yet androgynous femme fatale, has been absent from my life!" Keigo seemed to be deeply affected by this.

"She and anyone else with a brain."

"Ah, c'mon! I made it into the Blue Team, didn't I?!" he brandished his schedule in a defensive way. Ichigo smirked as a recent fact came to mind.

"The Blue Team is for people who scored lowest or didn't get to take the exam, Keigo." He smashed the empty can with strong fingers and let it fall, disturbing much of the lot's dust. Keigo stared at it for a while and, for once being smart enough not to respond, got back to his magazines.

At that time, the tall Kunieda rounded the corner, followed by Karin and Mizuiro, who was chatting animatedly to the younger girl. Karin's blue eyes met her brother's.

"Ichi-nii." She sounded bored. "Let's go home, okay?"

"Yeah," Ichigo was more than ready.

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

"Toshiro," Rukia said suddenly, sitting up in bed.

"Umnnn!" Toshiro growled sleepily.

"Oh, please. We both know you're awake."

Her white haired cousin's glare was solid and cold as ice.

"What. Do. You. Want?" he seethed.

"I heard noises outside."

"GO BACK TO SLEEP!"

She thought she had seen tiny flames in his eyes.

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

Akamori was curled up on the bathroom floor, limbs cold and ductile. Her arms curled into her chest and her legs folded up to her torso. Her stomach jolted about every few moments, throat tightened.

This was both cliché and annoying, but for now she would have to deal.

Unruly black hair curled up in tendrils around her face, somewhat hard from her lack of effort to brush it.

"Hey, slumber party?" Renji's voice said from the doorway, to her surprise. Three AM, and he was awake? That was out of character.

"Renji?" her voice sounded hoarse.

_You wimp. _

"What are you doing on the floor?" he asked, a tattooed brow arched as he took a seat on the counter.

"Waiting for it to pass," she said matter-of-factly, clutching at her growing stomach through her nightgown. "It's something I've gotten used to –once every week, I need to do it."

"And you've been pregnant for how long?" he asked.

She blushed. "Four... months." It shouldn't have felt weird to tell him about this stuff, but it did. He didn't exactly have a soothing face.

"Alright." Renji looked up immediately. "Four months?!"

She nodded. "Why are you so freaked out?"

He was shaking his head rapidly. "I only moved in with you two weeks ago, Akamori. That's impossibl—" he broke off. "Oh, so you mean you got pregnant—"

"The night I met you."

Akamori gave him a wry smile.

"..." he scratched his head.

"Oh, c'mon, Renji!" she felt herself frown deeply. "Don't tell me you already forgot." If he had, there would be far worse than Hell to pay. There would be quadruple-duple Hell.

"Yeah, I was just imagining it over in my brain."

His eyes were glassy.

"Perv." She smiled. "I left my jacket in the … car..."

"Say it. CAR. The place where we…" he trailed off seductively, leaning forward a little. "Had s—"

"Yes, I remember," she said, meaning to cut him off. "I was just wondering what happened to that jacket. It was so warm and soft." She remembered its fluffy cashmere insides with a nostalgic sigh.

"I think it's still in the car." He looked down, as if trying to remember, but slid off the counter. "Want me to go get it?"

"Renji. It's July." She rolled her eyes.

"Okay, so we have to wait this out, huh?"

"Excuse me, we?" she felt slightly taken aback.

"Unless you're a plant, I'm pretty sure the kid's half mine. So, as punishment for you 'getting it' from me, you're going to have to sit here. With me." She felt one of his hands brush underneath her back and pull her up slowly into his lap.

"Renji, you don't have to do this. It makes you look … well, really dumb."

Her sorrel eyes were probing his.

"So what? No one's watching," he said with a smirk, biting the inside of his cheek. "And anyway, I can't sleep. Now that I'm fired, there's no routine for anything."

Something ebbed into her consciousness, contradicting her survival of the past few weeks.

"Hey, if you were fired, how are you paying the rent?"

It was weird.

There was food in the fridge, money in her wallet...

"Well, this is gonna be a little weird to say, but whatever. I've been getting a check in the mail from your dad every week." He seasoned this statement with a shrug, but her expression was that of deep surprise.

"Huh!?"

"Yeah." He nodded and stretched out on the floor.

"W—" suddenly, she remembered. They'd only been broke since before... she'd sent that letter to her father. But he wasn't that unpredictable. This was not a normal person with emotions. This was Byakuya Kuchiki, the King of Rules. This was not a man who was emotionally touched by a letter or anything stupid like that. She'd only written it to put herself at peace, not to beg for money.

"Well then."

Renji looked at her. "Thinking again?"

"Maybe." She shrugged and buried her head in his chest, feeling the sound of his heart beating – and quickly at that. "What's wrong?"

He let out a long sigh. "Damn, it's hard, Akamori."

His hand drifted across her dark, disheveled hair.

She looked up at his soft facial expression. "What's hard?" well, for them, everything. But specifically.

Renji's eyes darkened up a little. "It's tough to explain."

"I have time." She let her head drop into his lap and sighed, but felt him stiffen. "Renji. I'm serious. What's your problem?"

He dropped his hands to the floor. "What you're doing right now. Touching me. It's driving me wild." His eyes were serious, but Akamori tried hard to fight back a laugh.

"It's driving you wild? Renji. This isn't some convoluted novel about people who can't get together. This is life." She wrapped her arms around his waist, to which he responded with a desperate sounding moan.

"...Oh, that's not it either, Akamori. You've missed the big picture." His hand went to work again, touching each of her fingers.

"I see the big picture. It's of you and me," she reminded, eyes scorching. "I don't think you're shy. You didn't seem so shy... four months ago." She smiled devilishly, but his expression was grave.

"I'm not shy. When I slept with you, I … I felt guilty."

Question marks bounced around inside her head.

"…Guilty?"

Silence. Blessed silence.

"Hello? Earth to Renji."

Renji swallowed. "I made an oath when I was little … that I'd never use a girl. It sounds really stupid but I did it."

She deadpanned. "You made an oath you'd never sleep with anyone."

"No, I made one that I'd never … sleep with her before I really knew her. And I haven't slept with you since then, you see?" he sounded incredibly serious for someone talking about promises formed when they were little.

"Well then," she concluded. "Let's start again. Akamori Kuchiki." She held out a hand with a soft smile.

He returned it. "Renji Abarai. And now that I think about it, Akamori, I don't know much about you at all."

"Mm... well, there isn't much to tell. I was born in Shiki." Without thinking about it, she had lapsed into a life story.

"Shiki, in Saitama? Pretty small place." His brows were raised.

"That was before we had money," she explained, eyes clouding over with some long-forgotten memory. "Our first house was in Shiki –its flower is the azalea. Rukia doesn't remember it at all, because we moved right before she was born."

"Where was she born?"

"In Shizuoka. It was a big city, and I was jealous because she could call it her hometown and I couldn't. But I was young. A little while later we came here and lived in Omi."

Renji felt slightly surprised. He himself lived in Omi. "You grew up there?"

"Only until I was about seven. That was when the money started rolling in –Byakuya's boss, Sosuke Aizen, had stolen a lot of company funds and was fired. My father was given the job of President."

"Lucky. When a guy higher than me gets caught stealing they make him leave, and I have to clean his office."

She smiled. "Woe is you."

"Mhm." He grinned. "I'm from Nemuro, on Hokkaido. It's a port and there are a lot of boats. Its bird is the swan."

Akamori nodded. "Nice to meet you, Renji from Nemuro."

"Akamori from Shiki."

They were both trying not to laugh, and it was hard. Akamori's stomach pains had been merciful enough to leave her be, if only for the moment.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Renji from Nemuro, I'm tired. Can we sleep now?" her eyelids were getting heavier.

"Akamori from Shiki, thank you. I'm gonna pass out."

He pulled her up bridal style and trudged through the bathroom, nearly knocking over the trash can in the process but making it through okay. At last they were both lying in bed.

"Good night... Renji... it was nice to get to know you..."

Renji felt himself smile. "Yeah..."

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

"Of course..." his arm slipped around her as they both relaxed, and about five minutes later sleep rolled over them.

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**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**I'm so glad to have updated She's Like the Moon! Gosh, it's been three months. This chapter was mostly Akamori/Renji, but I'm going through a phase with them right now... read my stories Akamori and Frenzied Shadows and you'll see what I mean. Anyway, the whole Karin thing wasn't planned, it just sort of came in the blink of an eye – like that time I just randomly wanted some cake, and I had some. Know what I mean, jelly bean? All right, well, I come bearing a question. The next chapter will be a filler (the canon chapter is in my laptop, but the charger's broken), so I want to know if it should be focused on a ByaHisa or RenMori flashback, because everything IchiRuki is canon and I don't want to disrupt the flow of my story. So, it's all in your reviews! The one with the most votes shall prevail... as seccaberry says... well, anyway, bye! –C**

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**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **


	11. Recalling

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_That may be all I need, in darkness, she is all I see  
Come and rest your bones with me, driving slow on Sunday morning  
And I never want to leave_

–Maroon 5

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**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**March 1990**

_Light was a curious thing. Quiet and delicate, its reality was almost questionable. As said light shone in on his desk, Byakuya Kuchiki studied his agenda with a soft sigh._

"_What's wrong?"_

_Byakuya looked wildly around. A voice, softer and sweeter than light, which he remembered from the girl who had spilled drinks on him. He blinked repeatedly._

"_Hisa—"_

"_Hi." She smiled a sad little smile and knit her fingers together._

_Finally, his voice returned. "Hisana... Hisana Harumei? Why are you here?" he felt his fingers tighten slightly. He hadn't seen her since that night by the river, with the stars and diamond-studded stones._

"_I-I was just saying hi... and I heard you had a job opening."_

_His mind was abuzz. Hisana Harumei, requesting a job with a prestigious firm such as this? "I... I do have an opening for an... administrative assistant..." He almost knocked the paperwork over in his rush to supply it for her; she took it with shaky fingers and looked at it for a moment, eyes moving quietly._

"_Do... do you think I'd qualify?" Hisana's tone was uneven and deadly quiet._

_This was the point in the conversation he had been dreading. "You... do you have any prior experience?" Of course he knew she didn't. Nevertheless, there had to be some normalcy between them now –his dreams of the teenage girl with the haunting violet eyes were getting out of control._

_Hisana was tight-lipped, her beryl eyes somewhat harried by the question. Byakuya was as well – he had never wanted to ask her in the first place. _

"_Well, no." Unsurprising. But he was surprised when she perked up. "I know! You can teach me, Mr. Kuchiki!"_

_This startled him. "Hm?"_

_She turned her head to the side. "I'm just a kid, but I work hard! You can count on me!" she lowered herself into a bow, blue dress swaying. When she rose her usually meek face was determined. "So! What does an administrative assistant do?"_

_His curiosity ebbed slowly back into formality. "You would, as an administrative assistant... answer the telephone, take notes, and accompany me on business trips." His voice, he found, was quieter than usual. "Are you able to do that?"_

_Hisana took no time to ponder. "I know how to use the phone!" she grinned, showing small milk white teeth. "I'll be nice to people!"_

_Byakuya knew that it wasn't practical – in fact, it was utterly irresponsible – but found himself giving her the job. "When can you start?"_

"_Now, I – oh." She was looking at the paperwork again. "It says I need to wear a suit," her expression was incredulous. "Do I really have to?"_

_He nodded. "I didn't place the rule, and it must be followed." His top lip pulled over the bottom one, a teenage habit he hadn't had the time or patience to forget. "Would you like me to accompany you to the store?" he knew she had no money. It would be tasteless to send her without any, not to mention manipulative and downright cruel._

_Hisana's breath caught visibly, her hands flitting about as she fidgeted. "Um, well, that is, if you really want to..."_

"_Hisana," he said quietly, appraising her with calm gray eyes. "There is an empty desk right there." He pointed to a cozy cherry desk by the wall with a rather large computer, some Post-It notes and a telephone. "We will find you a suit tomorrow."_

_She nodded, grateful for the subject change, and slowly sidled into her new chair. When finished, she sat staring at the computer for at least twenty minutes, violet eyes somewhat intimidated._

Is it that difficult to ask me a question_?_

"_Hisana?"_

_She jumped and immediately pressed the power button. "Sorry! I spa- spaced out!" she was blushing a warm, dark pink. The color filled him with odd feelings, so Byakuya cleared his throat and got back to work on a paper sent in by the Board._

"_So!" Hisana's visage remained magenta. "What do I do first?"_

"_Email," he said simply._

"_Your email? I don't think I can get in," she said, looking confused._

"_Both of these computers are connected to an IMAP server that's directly wired to all my accounts – email, bank, social security." He himself was typing away at his bank account, total: 236,493._

"_Oh, well... m... what if your assistant read your secret email?" she asked in all honesty._

"_Well, then she can leave," Byakuya said, leaving her shortly stunned. "It was … a joke," odd, because he hardly told those. "Hisana, I have no secret email. It is all business."_

_In fact, one email in there really wasn't._

"_Who's Isshin Kurosaki?" she asked curiously._

_The name struck chords of annoyance. "An acquaintance of mine from college."_

"_Oh. Well, he has a survey for children's names on here. Apparently his wife is expecting a baby." She smiled._

And, this effects me in what way?_"Hm."_

"_Anyway, they want to know everyone's favorite boy and girl name – for some reason, you're on the mailing list."_

_"Am I?" it didn't surprise him - Isshin Kurosaki felt the need to involve everyone in his personal life, no matter what it could be about. He had always been this way. "Then reply and tell him I have no favorite names for children."_

_Hisana's fingers, poised on the keys, stopped._

_She looked up. "None at all?" it was surprising to her. He must have some name he liked._

_"I don't spend time poring over things about children. They are... of no importance to my career."_

_"That's a little harsh," she murmured, but not quietly enough to go unnoticed. Byakuya found himself momentarily shocked by her blunt response, but said nothing. She was from Yukio, a place where discrepancy was an unnecessary evil. "All right, I sent that. Anything else?"_

_She was already finished? It took a good while to compile a satisfactory business letter, but she didn't know._

"_There is nothing. You can go home now."_

_Hisana seemed confused. "That's it? Weird."_

_He blinked spastically. "Excuse me?"_

_She was taken aback, her cheeks invaded with a thousand pink soldiers._

"_I, well, figured there would be more than that for me to do. You seem like a busy man." _

_She bit her lip and shut down the computer, and for some reason pain eclipsed his being. Hisana had been working here for thirty minutes and already he didn't want her to leave. What was wrong with him? It was some kind of masochistic attraction to a child, so ridiculous. So … tempting at the same time. _

"_Well," he said, "we could buy your suit, if you'd like."_

Hisana's lips were slack for a moment. Then, she smiled. "Yes, sir."

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

_Kawabe was the town center located in the intersection that branched to Yukio, Omi, Kimikan and Shimomura respectively. It was large but immaculate, with awnings and cobblestones. Hisana and Byakuya stood near the entrance underneath an old-fashioned, wooden Japanese doorway. He was wary of buying womens' clothing, especially when said woman was with him. It would stir up talk among his workmates._

_"So," Hisana said quietly. "Where to?" she was looking about with wild curiosity, and it occupied him for at least a minute before he replied._

"_Wherever is convenient," he murmured somewhat more quietly than usual, walking forward to a uniform-looking clothes shop. Most of the clothing looked strongly made, so it would wear long. "Find something to your liking," he allowed._

_Hisana gave a brief nod and disappeared among the many shelves._

_At last she was gone, at least long enough for him to straighten his mind. This was honestly getting out of hand –the dreams and thoughts he had, even when he hadn't seen her for a while, were upsetting him more than he wanted to allow, and now that she worked at the firm they would undoubtedly worsen. They weren't obscene dreams, merely dreams of her face, her voice and her hands, reaching for him, but he could not take them – the dream usually ended before that point. But when he woke, the thing that scared him the most was the fact that he had wanted to._

"_Byakuya Kuchiki!" said a voice._

_He turned to see a somewhat tall man with untidy black hair but a clean-shaven face and bright white teeth; Isshin Kurosaki had not changed at all since college, ten years before. "Hello," Byakuya said cordially._

"_Man, I'm tired of shopping! But. We men have to do it," he shrugged as if this could not be helped. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"_

… _Byakuya felt somewhat awkward discussing it. "My assistant is in need of formal clothing," he said bluntly. "What is your business here?" he felt it necessary to swing the conversation away from Hisana, because that would lead to unwanted questions._

"_Oh, is she the little lady… over there?" he pointed directly to Hisana, who was frowning at a pair of black pants. Byakuya's eyes flared. "Well, maybe I can help! Masaki's shown me a lot of stuff."_

_His wife had shown him how to shop? Odd. "I see, Kurosaki. Help…" he found himself speaking, alarmingly, without thinking things through. "If you absolutely must, I suppose." _

_Byakuya figured if Hisana knew he had been unyielding about yet another thing…_

That's a little harsh_, she had said._

_The words had hit closer to home than he had originally anticipated. In fact, they had been following him around all afternoon, like a small child desperate for companionship. The fact that it had been added to the growing list of Hisana's effects on him was even more mind-numbing._

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

_He spent an hour waiting by the same clothes rack, eyes closed gently as he waited. Perhaps there was good food nearby? It smell made his stomach groan, but he would wait for her before buying food. It would be impolite. As if on cue, his stomach complained even more._

"_Finally finished!" announced Isshin proudly from near the checkout. "I helped a woman go shopping! Masaki will see me in a new light!" he crated several bags, but decided to put them on the floor with an over exaggerated sigh. _

"_Thank you," Hisana said with a low, aristocratic bow._

"_Huh?" Isshin looked confused. "What are you bowing to me for? Do I _look _rich?" but as he spoke, a good-natured smile played across his lips. "All right. Let's get this stuff back to Byakuya." Upon hearing his name, Byakuya paled. There was definitely unease on the horizon as Hisana pulled over her bags and let them be free with a weary look._

"_We're finished… Mr. Kuchiki!" she said with a sudden wide grin. "Mr. Kurosaki already paid for everything!" she smiled at him, too._

_For a moment, Byakuya had not stopped to think about that. Should he have given her money before sending her off on her own? It was arguable, but now it mattered not. "Are you hungry?" he asked simply._

_Hisana thought it over. "I haven't eaten… since coffee! I _am _hungry!" she laced her fingers together and looked at the shopping bags, but Isshin had them in a flash._

"_Little people shouldn't carry this much!" he commented._

_Hisana froze, her eyebrows contorting. Byakuya watched in wonder as her eyes went from friendly blue to a stony, frigid navy and her temple pulsated ever so slightly. "Little… peop… people?" she asked in a guttural tone. "I am 4'11, thank you."_

"_Short," Isshin laughed. "Now, let's go out and eat, shall we?"_

Since when was he a vulture_? thought Byakuya. "Kurosaki…"_

"_I know, I know. You don't have to thank me! I love people," he said, with an ear to ear grin._

_Hisana seemed to pick up on things, and let out a soft laugh. It was a supple sound with its own individual rhythm. He couldn't remember why they were here. _

_He couldn't remember his name._

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**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

When Akamori woke up, it was raining. The sound of it pitter-pattered on the roof, like tiny people running. She always thought of this when it rained.

Nothing seemed to be going on in here, other than her perusing the sounds of nature and Renji lying beside her, awake but silent. Their conversation from yesterday floated in and out of her mind. __

"I'm not shy. When I slept with you, I … I felt guilty." The words had hit triads of pain and, at the same time, curiosity in her mind. Who would make Renji promise such things? Why? In her mind, he was Renji and not just a lover… even if it had happened only once.

"_I see the big picture. It's of you and me," _he remembered her saying, eyes heated and dark. Absurd as it sounded he sometimes found himself unsure about Akamori. Was she… too innovative for him? He was having a hard time picturing her older… more mature. And as it burned him to think about it, what was happening to the family she had shirked for a man who was having irresolute feelings?

"Renji… I want to talk to you," she said softly, sitting up in bed.

He knew, somehow, that this was coming. "…Yeah." Other than this there was nothing he could think of to say.

"Why… are you so sad to be with me?" she asked, her tone weak.

"I guess it's just that…" Renji sighed. This was not going to go over well. "I'm just waiting for the day you say, 'see you, I have a date tonight'." He didn't look at her. It would cause a world of distress, but he heard her just fine, breathing quietly.

Her voice broke. "Please… don't do that," Akamori said despondently. "The day I met you, I was surprised, you know, because every one else I knew, they all wanted to have sex with me, nothing else, and… you didn't… I was so glad. If it weren't for me drinking your beer, I wouldn't have…"

"One beer got you that hopped up?" he questioned.

"I don't have a very high tolerance for it, really," she murmured. "But other than that, you listened to what I had to say, about everything… no one else did that for me. Not even my father listened to me, but you knew that… and I…"

His frown subsided, but he wasn't facing her. Her words were in the room, entering his psyche from all sides.

"So, what you're saying is…" Renji couldn't even tell where she was going with this as he listened to the rain hit the tin roof.

"You're the only one … I've ever _known _and liked and thought about and dreamed of," she sighed.

And with that, the couple was quiet, trying to understand one another as the rain fell.

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**I am forever indebted to seccaberry for pulling me through my lack of ideas for this chapter. It was voted a Bya/Hisa (which is good, because I'm a little stuck with Ren/Mori at the moment, but doing the math I found that their baby will be born in December yay!). But there was some Ren/Mori. I really liked writing the Bya/Hisa – in the beginning, I had no idea how their relationship was supposed to progress – and this just kinda hit me. Yay for ideas that hit people! I've put the She's Like the Moon soundtrack on my profile (a link to the playlist, anyway), so go check it out, kay? By the way. Toshiro doesn't wind up with Momo, or Karin (duh). I don't dislike HitsuHina, I just like a change of pace sometimes is all. I absolutely adore HitsuKarin, for the record, but it cannot happen in this fic for two reasons.  
1. Karin is six.  
2. There's a character who has no one, and she needs a little Hitsugaya love ;)  
Just try and guess his pairing, you never will, he he... but their song is "She's an Angel" by They Might Be Giants. –evil grin— The Isshin thing was a last minute decision, but it worked out pretty well. :D Thanks for reading and make sure you leave me a nice review.**

**Tons of love, –SW **

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	12. Back to School

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_Can't figure out the way you are, it's like I'm chasing after stars._

–Johnny Yong Bosch

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

The twenty-sixth of August came faster than any of the students had anticipated, and Rukia was no exception. A milky white complexion had replaced her pinkish sunburn, and everyone seemed to compliment her on it… Even Ichigo, who had said, 'I didn't know you were an albino. It's cool.'

Said amber-eyed person was accompanying Rukia to the station, and as she waited anxiously in her bedroom, she wondered if he would show up at all. Toshiro leaned quietly against the wall, his white hair impossibly spiky and his matching brows furrowed.

"I don't see why Kurosaki needs to take us," he said icily, blinking slowly.

"Because _Kurosaki _has a car," Rukia explained, eyeing herself in the mirror. The students of Karakura High School had differing uniforms, depending on the Team they'd been sorted into. Rukia was on the Green Team but her uniform consisted of a white blouse and gray skirt, paired with black stockings and brown dress shoes. The small lapel on her shirt was bright red, and she had been mailed a long gray trench coat for winter. All emblazoned with the school's logo, which was a blue and green eagle.

Toshiro had also been placed on the Green Team, wearing the gray pants he'd dubbed 'absurdly skintight' and a similar shirt to Rukia's, except it was a crew neck instead of a V and included a blue and green tie.

"…Let me see your schedule." Rukia passed him the piece of paper that had grown worn because she'd folded it. "We have… English, Math… and… an Elective course," he finished, looking melancholy. "Home Economics."

"Cooking…" Rukia smiled faintly. She'd always been rather apt in the kitchen, unlike Akamori, who had trouble making cereal. "It's not so bad…"

"Fine." Toshiro's lips tightened and he appeared to be on the verge of ripping the schedule. "I don't see why I needed to be put into such a class."

"My mom picked your classes," Rukia reminded, "and it was very random. So… you get what you get." She grabbed her purse from the coat rack and smiled at her cousin, hearing Ichigo's car out front. Hisana and Byakuya were still under the impression that he was a girl, but… even though they would be at the station Rukia intended to keep her friend and her parents separate. She and her petite cousin strode out onto the dewy lawn, the wee-morning black sky huge above them. The train boarded at five thirty, so they were leaving quiet early.

"Hey, munchkin," Ichigo said, his tone surprisingly jovial for someone who was beginning a new school year. Rukia felt intensely relieved when she saw him in a white shirt, but his tie was absent.

"Skyscraper," she said, sliding into the passenger seat. Toshiro sidled grumpily in the back. "You're on the Green Team… whew."

"What, are you already prejudiced against the others?" he said with a dark look, his eyes on the gas level. "We need to stop at Sheetz here in a few minutes, it's running on fumes," he informed.

"As long as I get a smoothie."

"You sound like a married couple," said Toshiro sardonically, flicking his lighter aflame and sliding the cigarette into his mouth.

"Open the window," Ichigo said immediately, his frown deepening.

"Your father smokes," Toshiro reminded him, taking a drag. His facial features relaxed immediately.

"I know, but Rukia's here, and Byakuya doesn't."

Rukia looked up, incredulous. She didn't know what she should be more surprised about: the fact that he knew such a thing, or that he cared enough to bring it up. "How do you even _know _that?" she tried to pull the stiffness out of her uniform, which Hisana had ironed attentively the night before.

"I have sources," he said, pulling into the Sheetz parking lot. "I know everything."

"How's that?" Rukia frowned. If Ichigo had cameras in her house, Byakuya probably would've had them burned by now, and they lived in a private neighborhood that could only be entered with an intricate sequence of numbers, so he couldn't have hired a private investigator."Your sister," Ichigo said, looking at her as if she had suggested a second Virginia Tech killing. "What did you—damn it Hitsugaya, put down the window!"

"Profane ruffian," Toshiro nearly smashed the button in but the window went down just as well. Otherwise, he seemed unruffled. Ichigo exited the car and left the keys hanging from the ignition, and in her peripheral vision Rukia could see him gassing the car up. "Are you thinking what I happen to be thinking?" he said, a hint of mischief coloring his voice.

"Ichigo had better get me a smoothie?" she asked, confused.

He rolled his eyes. "We drive off and go home."

Rukia scowled. "I wouldn't do that! I owe too much to Ichigo."

"Oh, you're pregnant with his child?" Toshiro flicked the used cigarette out the window. Rukia's cheeks flared immediately and she nearly smacked him.

"I don't understand how you can be so rude sometimes," she said, the thought stuck in her mind as she slammed the car door behind her a wave of chilly air nearly overcame her.

Shaking her head, Rukia raced into the store.

There were many inhabitants this early, rushing for their coffee and donuts. _No wonder this place is usually so deserted… bunch of workaholics. _After poring over some yummy-looking bunny shaped candy, Rukia noticed her red haired friend punching something in on the LCD screen.

"What are you doing?"

Ichigo grimaced but didn't look up from the screen. "Ordering that damn smoothie you wanted so bad, and some food."

"We don't have time for that now, I was just being playful," Rukia said matter of factly, still staring at the bunny candy. "I'm gonna go sit in the car." He ripped his freshly printed receipt from the printer, smudging the ink a bit, and slid it across the counter to the cashier with a ten dollar bill. "Don't spend that much!" her voice was uncharacteristically high, but Ichigo ignored that fact and stood to wait for the food as sunset approached. Irritated, Rukia stomped back out to the car, where Toshiro waited, smoking a fresh cigarette.

"And how is the child's father?" he said dryly, exhaling the smoke.

"Be quiet, midget!" Rukia said, shocked by how much she sounded like Ichigo. "For the fifty six thousandth time, Ichigo and I are NOT A COUPLE!!!" she was seething right now.

"Fifty six? Is that the magic number?" he said as Ichigo approached with a large plastic bag in hand. He struck an oddly impressive figure in the skinny gray pants and button up shirt, his white shoes illuminated by the many overhead lights.

"Why are you so prissy this morning?" Rukia knitted her eyebrows and stared into the back seat, where her cousin held a cigarette as innocently as a small child would hold a lollipop. "All you've done is complain the whole time!" Toshiro said nothing, but Ichigo had a lot to say as he entered the car.

"Damn line! Some ancient old woman cut me and I had to wait even longer!" he began to pull many things out of the bag; among them was the tall, transparent cup that was filled with an icy pink liquid and topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream. "I wasn't sure whether you wanted it or not, so I put it on there anyway."

"It's… self serve?" Rukia was surprised at how innovative gas stations could be, and even more so when Ichigo shoved something in her hand. Looking down, she saw a tiny rabbit figurine with a huge head. Its tag read Chappy. "Oh! Thanks, Ichigo…" also on her lap was the rather large bag of bunny candy. "Geez, it isn't Christmas."

"I figured you'd bug me the whole way there if you didn't have some entertainment." Ichigo shrugged and pulled out of the parking lot, whipping a small white object into the back seat. "That's for you."

Toshiro eyed the pack warily. "…"

"You're welcome."

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**\l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

"Rukia…" said a voice. Rukia ran toward the grinning bunny, which was standing on a hilltop holding a daisy. It had big, pretty amber eyes and a nice face… except it didn't look happy. "Rukia, you have to get up."

"No…!" the bunny seemed to be getting more and more irritated. "We're at the station, get up!"

Like a rubber band being let go, Rukia snapped back to reality. Feeling the leathery fabric of the car seat beneath her behind, she fumbled for the door handle and found it. Lucky for the familiar hand of her cousin Toshiro, who caught her just before she smacked her face on the pavement.

"Oh…" Rukia leaned against the BMV, catching her breath. "I was dreaming…" maybe she'd said something funny… hopefully it was nothing about her undergarments. "Well… uh… let's go!" donning a happy face, Rukia smiled eagerly and strode ahead, enthralled by the endless amount of people and their families.

Where was hers? Maybe they had skipped out. With a father like Byakuya, it was something you had to get used to. When Rukia had been younger, the family had been poor and Akamori got as much attention as she saw fit. Rukia felt that her father's high paying job had robbed her of her childhood. After pondering this for a moment, Rukia jumped when addressed.

"Rukia!" she turned to see the blissful Orihime Inoue, wearing a dark green blazer with a blue blouse under it. Her skirt was forest green, and she wore black stockings and shoes. Obviously she was on a different team. "I've missed you so much, you need to call more often!"

Rukia blushed. What with readying herself for the school year and her bitterness toward Tatsuki, she'd neglected the redhead. "Uhm, some things…came up." The shorter girl smiled nervously and changed the subject… "What team are you on?"

"Blue," she said happily. "Tatsuki's on… Red, I think… have you talked to her? Since his birthday?" they both remembered the spat Tatsuki had started.

"No," Rukia replied flatly as Ichigo approached, Rukia's purse and the Chappy candy in tow. "Why hello, Ichigo! So nice seeing you here!"

"…What the hell? I drove you here." Damn, she had hoped he wouldn't say it that way. Orihime's gray eyes widened quietly, and her mouth quivered a little. This wasn't the expected reaction; it had been more like a jumping-and-screaming-about-Ichigo-and-Rukia moment, since she was prone to have those whenever they hung out. But no. Silence.

"…" Rukia smiled quietly and stepped back, taking the Chappy candy from Ichigo and biting into one of the sugary rabbits. "I hope you have a good year, Orihime. Maybe we'll be in some electives together, right?" she was trying to make it right with Orihime, who was of course Tatsuki's closest friend, and so far…

"Yeah." Orihime gave a pained look and turned away, slowly striding off into the sea of people. Rukia stood awkwardly for a second.

"Uhm…" she turned back to Ichigo, whose amber orbs were focused on the retreating Orihime. "What train do we board?"

"Fifty six," he said.

"Where's… Toshiro?" the short young man was absent from the group, and even though they were enjoying it Rukia felt Byakuya would have a fit if she lost his nephew.

"I was hoping you'd forget about him," Ichigo shrugged. "He was by the phone booth a second ago." Maybe Ichigo wanted harm to come to Toshiro—after all, Rukia's cousin had been less than kind to the redhead. Maybe it was his habit to treat everyone like crap… then again, he'd never been granted such mercy. She followed Ichigo across the small plaza and back to the car, near which stood a small glass booth and a pay phone, with her cousin sandwiched uncomfortably inside. Even though it was soundproof, she could tell easily that he was yelling. Currently, Toshiro was trying to knock the door down with his foot, his face colored scarlet with frustration.

"Toshiro!" Rukia wrenched open the stubborn glass door. "What happened to you?"

"Infernal contraption," he muttered, glaring at it with steely green eyes. "Your mother is here."

At the word 'mother', Rukia turned immediately to see her wistfully present mother, wearing a loose fitting blue dress and silk ballet flats, looking like a diamond in a pile of earth. Her opaque skin was illuminated by the overhead lights, making her look like the ghost of a little girl. Her hairstyle closely resembled her daughter's, but she seemed tired and woebegone.

"Mother!" she said, kissing her on the cheek and smiling. "I didn't know you'd be here." Actually, she had… she had just expected Byakuya to be there, too. Sensing a presence behind her, Rukia hastened to introduce him. "This is Ichigo Kurosaki."

"Hello there," Hisana smiled and extended a hand to Ichigo, one that wasn't even half the size of his. "How do you do?"

"Fine and you?" Ichigo wasn't very elegant, but there was something about him that exuded a fine childhood.

"I am well," she replied. "I do hope you'll take care of my Rukia."

Rukia reddened deeply. "Mother, Ichigo and I are…"

Ichigo smirked. "Go on and tell her then."

There was really nothing to tell… Rukia knew he always wanted to tease her.

"Ichigo and I are just friends, that's all there is to it!" donning a wide smile, Rukia turned away and felt like elbowing the orange haired man. Toshiro stood against the brick wall, his hand in his pocket. She knew he was guarding the cigarettes from Hisana's view.

"Your other things were mailed," she reminded, taking Rukia's hand. Ichigo went over toward Toshiro at that moment, striking up a conversation about the weather. "Rukia, I have something I'd like to give you." Her lips formed a nostalgic smile as she reached inside her purse and pulled out a long silvery chain with a huge pendant on the end, its face covered in a thousand miniscule diamonds. The younger girl's eyes widened as Hisana placed it around her neck and held it in her fingers before opening it to reveal two small photographs on each side.

The first was of Byakuya and Hisana on their wedding day. They were both smiling; Hisana was in a sleeveless white gown, her hair high on her head. A pearl tiara rested within the black tresses, bringing the light out from within her deep navy orbs. The elfin young woman was in the arms of her new husband, his mouth curled in a soft smile and his grey eyes sparkling.

The second was of Rukia and Akamori seated on the porch swing; she looked to be about six or seven, her hair in a bob on her cheeks. On her little frame was a blue and white gingham dress. Her face was, if possible, a lot smaller, but she was still cute. Akamori was in the early stages of adolescence, her body somewhat disproportionate to her face and stance, but her eccentric prettiness remained.

"Oh, Mother… thank you…" she embraced her nearly identical mother and felt nostalgic. "I'll miss you."

Hisana sighed and caressed Rukia's hair. "You compare a tree to a forest." She let go slowly and murmured, "work hard, and be smart. We're waiting for you at home." Her indigo eyes were quiet and unwaveringly wise as they looked at her, but then her eyes turned to the large clock near the phone booth Toshiro had been trapped in. "I love you, Rukia. Good luck." She smiled one more time and then ambled away quietly as the train began to whistle.

Rukia found herself staring after her mother for a very long time before Ichigo's voice pulled her away.

"Rukia, it's leaving!" he bellowed from his fleeting spot near the train's door. With one last glance toward the retreating Hisana, she ran to the door just as it automatically closed them both inside. The inside of the train looked more like a high-tech school lobby than a train hallway. The compartment doors were glass, rimmed with steel, and inside the closest one was Toshiro. His expression was black.

She pulled the door open, sighing. Finally, they were on their way! It had been way too long since the end of last year, a time when she hadn't known Ichigo and Toshiro had lived in Shimomura. Rukia settled on the semi-firm seat and relaxed, letting out a deep breath and hearing Ichigo plop down beside her.

"Hey," he said, rifling through his bag. "You have your schedule?"

"Mhm!" she had placed it in the pocket on the lapel of her shirt. But when she looked, there was nothing. "Uh-oh. Toshiro?"

"Yes?" he didn't look up.

"Where did you last see my schedule? I let you look at it…"

"You took it back," he announced in a flat, icy voice. This was annoying. Rukia would need that schedule to get into her classes, her locker… she didn't even remember her dorm number!

This was always happening; she lost every official paper people gave her. Akamori did, too, but somehow she never managed to get in trouble – she was always cunning enough to forge a paper, to sneak uses of copy machines. Rukia wasn't that lucky. "Get another one from the office," Toshiro suggested.

Rukia nodded, because there were no other options, but took Ichigo's schedule:

"NAME: KUROSAKI, ICHIGO GENDER: M GRADE: 10 DORMITORY #: 423B. DIVISION: GREEN

_**Course Title:**__ Literature/Language 10. __**Instructor:**__ Madarame, Ikkaku. __**Room:**__ 244.  
__**Course Title:**__ Algebra II. __**Instructor:**__ Ise, Nanao. __**Room:**__ 327.  
__**Course Title:**__ World Cultures. __**Instructor:**__ Ochi, Arane. __**Room:**__ 942.  
__**Course Title:**__ Chinese Language. __**Instructor:**__ Fon, Shaolin. __**Room:**__ 574.  
__**Course Title:**__ Physical ED, Health. __**Instructor:**__ Shiba, Kukaku. __**Room:**__ Gymnasium.  
__**Course Title:**__ Lunch/Study Hall. __**Instructor:**__ Madarame, Ikkaku. __**Room:**__ 244.  
__**Course Title:**__ Chemic Science. __**Instructor:**__ Hisagi, Shuuhei. __**Room:**__ 392.  
__**Course Title: **__Home Economics. __**Instructor: **__Shihoin Yoruichi. __**Room:**__ 1000."_

Having a photographic memory, when she compared the two, they were exactly alike. Her mouth fell open, and she shook her head. "Ichigo, how are you in all my classes?"

He shrugged and tucked the schedule away in his shirt pocket. "I dunno." Ichigo let his eyes glaze over, laying back in his seat as she continued to marvel over this fact. Ichigo? In all her classes.

Ridiculous. It had to be some kind of mix-up. She couldn't have to deal with him all day! That was … inhuman!

Toshiro sighed deeply. "Apparently, I … hm…"

They both seemed surprised. Rukia spoke up first. "Uhm, Toshiro? What's with you?"

He blinked spastically. "That was odd. Someone ran by the door."

Rukia craned her neck to see the phenomenon, but it was gone. "Okay…"

Ichigo was intent on it, too. "There they go again," he mused quietly. "Someone's hyper this morning."

Toshiro shook his head and opened his school map. "It's huge, of course. I should've known." He looked up at Rukia. "I'm not going to save you when you get lost, Kuchiki."

Said Kuchiki's nostrils flared. "Shut up."

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**\l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**Okeydokey then! :D I hope you liked this rather short chappie, but finally they're on their way to school! Toshiro got stuck in the phone booth -- surprising for him, but still priceless. No Bya/Hisa or Ren/Mori in this chapter, because… well, now that I have the canon chapter, they'll be on hold for just a little while. YES, A NEW LAPTOP CHARGER AT LAST. And I didn't have to wait for a certain gift-giving holiday for it. Anyways, I'd like some good ideas for next chap, and yeah, I'll give you credit where credit is due – three reviews if you give me a good idea, and five if it's absolutely amazing. I even might tell my lovely friends to R & R your stories!**

**Much love, SW**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

**\l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**


	13. High Maintenance

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_Somewhere we're landing on a pinhead, calling you an angel, calling you the nicest thing._

-They Might Be Giants

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l **

Eventually, the sun bled over the horizon, sending waves of warmth across a somewhat bored Rukia Kuchiki. Nothing would entertain her now, except possibly divine intervention, as she chewed quietly on her Chappy candy Ichigo had bought her.

Right now, he seemed just as bored as she did; his eyes were glazed over and he looked very far away. Toshiro looked more comical; he slept like a newborn, thumb resting between slightly parted lips. Whenever she'd come see him in Akamori's room, he was usually sleeping. _A child who sleeps will grow up_, he had told her when asked why. _It had better happen soon_, he had grumbled.

Rukia sighed and turned on her side, curling up on the long sea. It was softer than it had felt on her behind, but then again, said rump had fallen asleep about an hour before. She folded her arms under her chin and let her eyes close.

She felt Ichigo shift his weight, and one of her eyes slid open to see that he had moved to the other side of the compartment. For some reason, this shook her mind. "Ichigo?"

He was silent for a little while. "What?" his eyes were slightly bleary and warmer than usual – it created an odd sensation in the pit of her tummy.

"You don't just say _what_! You say _yes_!" she corrected matter-of-factly, pushing herself up by her hands.

"Huh? Well, that was disturbing." Ichigo opened a magazine.

"…H… what?!" Rukia snapped, rising to her full height in seconds. "That's cruel of you!"

"After that time you smashed my ribs in at the field? Payback," he informed her with that idiotic smirk. She wanted to slap it right off his face. "Well, Rukia. I thought somebody like you'd be a little more… classy."

Her temple shook. "Me?! What the hell!? This is Byakuya! Not me! By-a-ku-YA!"

Ichigo turned back to the magazine, his frown a little less intense this time. "Hey," he said suddenly.

"What's that?" she did not want to deal with his crap right now.

Toshiro cut across Ichigo. "We're here," he announced.

Rukia felt herself gasp, then slide across the seat to the window. On the horizon was a large dark brick building with white railings and polished windows. 'KTHS' was carved in elaborate stone atop what appeared to be the main doorway; 'Opened 2008' engraved into a large plaque near one of the stone entry ramps. She hadn't liked the girls' school nearly as much, with its rusty railings and old shutters, as she liked the building before her. It also excited her that she'd spend her next three years here, as well.

"It's … nice," Toshiro murmured, his small nose suddenly pressed against the glass. Now they were passing a building much larger than the school, more uniform. "The dorm building… good."

Rukia frowned a little. "At least you know where your dorm is, Toshiro."

He mirrored her expression exactly. "Excuse me, but that only happens to people responsible enough to keep track of their things."

"Fine," she sniffed, picking up her bag and plopping back down in her seat. Ichigo had stowed the magazine in his own bag and was now biting his thumbnail absentmindedly, apparently for lack of anything better to do. Good, let the obnoxious orange head get bored. It wasn't her problem.

At last, the train slowed to a stop. Rukia felt much better than she had when getting on it as Ichigo pulled the door open and waited for her in the hallway, for reasons unknown. The blue eyed girl waited until Toshiro departed, a little sluggish since he had been asleep, and made her way to one of the exits.

The morning air was brisk but warm, humidity floating around. _Oh, great. Hair? Just poof up now. _Rukia sighed and readjusted her bag, bracing her knees and striding along the sidewalk toward what appeared to be the cafeteria entrance. But she surveyed some of the students on their way in there as well.

The group in white and gray were her fellow Green members, most of them quiet but a few joking amongst themselves. Nearby she spotted Orihime in green flanked by – Tatsuki in a light brown blazer and darker shirt, with white clogs and black-navy knee-highs. Orihime was talking softly but quickly about some kind of food she'd been experimenting with lately, and how Tatsuki needed to try some. Tatsuki replied with a swift, "maybe later", and then they were too far in front of her to hear any more.

Toshiro's eyes were shifty as well, but they didn't stop anywhere in particular – of course not, since he had lived in Kimikan for a while. Eventually though, they stopped on a boy with blond hair in a serious side fringe, sided by a girl with chocolate brown hair Rukia remembered as Momo Hinamori.

She noticed. "Shiro!" she called, green skirt waving. Blue Team.

Toshiro nodded to her, but continued walking. Apparently he didn't want to disturb the crowds – that was the only solution Rukia could think of as to why he wasn't running toward his friends. She sighed. Ichigo took note of this.

"What's up with you?" he asked, sounding harried.

"Nothing, Ichigo," she murmured.

"Fine," he replied roughly.

She didn't like arguing with Ichigo, but it came naturally – like Toshiro's love for classical music or Akamori's distaste for order, it couldn't be stopped.

They walked through the door being held open by a thin girl with dark hair in a braid, her green eyes thoughtful. Her expression was unhappy.

"Nemu," Ichigo said.

"Huh?" Rukia didn't know this Nemu person, and felt oddly threatened by the reference.

"She's an Aide for the Blue Team. I read it in my syllabus," he explained, and for some reason this cooled her off.

"Okay..."

Rukia noticed that people were beginning to sit at the tables, and plunked down at the closest possible table. Chatter engulfed the room within seconds as many others began to sit; around her, a few dark haired boys and a girl who appeared to be their sister. She had dark violet hair tinged with lighter shades and large, deep citrus eyes. Her skin was the lightest Rukia had ever seen, even lighter than she, the albino.

She watched her goof around with the brother who looked to be the oldest, throwing mock punches. Her voice was high and oddly charming as she laughed at him.

"Weirdo!" she exclaimed, grinning. "I'll tell Hideki you said that and he'll flip."

"Fine," the brother said with a laugh. "Sen, you know Seicho's gonna care more than him."

She shrugged, unperturbed. "Whatever!"

One thing Rukia noticed was that Toshiro seemed to be oddly occupied with the scene, his aquamarine eyes dark and focused.

"Hey!" said the voice of a girl at the other table, with dark brown hair and big green eyes. "Senna!"

The violet haired girl looked over. "Hey!" she exclaimed. Senna walked over to the other table, and Rukia noted the huge blackish bruise that stretched from her thigh to her ankle with an audible breath. Ichigo appeared to take heed of it as well.

"Must be a klutz," he said with a shrug.

Toshiro shook his head. "I don't think so, Kurosaki." His eyes looked deeply disturbed by the one abrasion on the body of a stranger, and this irked his cousin.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He shook his head again, teeth coming down on his top lip. "Never mind that right now."

And, as if exactly on cue, a tiny pink-haired girl walked onto the stage. Rukia remembered her from the ice cream stand earlier that summer. Was she like a jack of all trades?

"Hi!" she said into the microphone that was exactly proportionate to her size. She was met by adoring 'aww' noises, but the expression on her face quieted them. "I'm Yachiru! I'll get Kenny … hm… Kenny…" she looked around for a moment, and then shrugged. "I don't know where he is! Anyway… it's a new year and our first year as a school! Thanks for coming!" she grinned, reminding Rukia faintly of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.

"Okay! Well! Uhm… This year will…"

Obviously Yachiru hadn't prepared a speech. She rambled on for a few minutes about where everything was… which was unnecessary since they had all been given maps. Then she told them how to buy lunch, also unnecessary because lunch bills were sent home every month.

At last, Yachiru skipped off the stage. There was no one else to take her place, and so, people began to mill around in the room. Senna and her brothers were hanging around near the water fountain, their baritone laughs accented by her bubble-gum pink one. Orihime and Tatsuki were visible near the door, standing awkwardly. For some reason this made Rukia feel smug, but then her thoughts were interrupted.

"Rukia. Office," Ichigo reminded, his amber eyes determined.

She sighed. "Fine."

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

The office was relatively plain, with white walls and gray marble flooring. The corners of the room were occupied by large cherry desks, each manned by a receptionist. They needed four? Wow. Rukia approached the nearest one: Ise, Nanao.

"Ms. Ise?" she asked uncertainly.

Nanao Ise was a relatively petite woman with jet black hair pulled back into a neat bun, her blue eyes glaring behind their spectacles. "Yes?"

"I… lost my schedule," Rukia admitted, feeling her face get hot.

"Aren't you an Algebra teacher?" Ichigo questioned, raising a gingery eyebrow.

Ms. Ise glared. "We all wear a lot of hats around here, Kurosaki. Now." She turned to Rukia, fingers poised on the computer's keys. "Your name?"

"Rukia Kuchiki…"

K U C H I K I R U K I A popped up on the screen, along with other various information. Nanao studied it for a few moments, her eyes confused. "You said you're Rukia?"

"Mhm." Rukia was wondering how this could possibly take so long.

"Well, the thing is… we got a new arrival at the last minute, and she is handicapped. Your dormitory is the only one suitable for her needs, so we've moved you." Rukia's schedule printed within seconds, and she grabbed it right out of the printer.

"423B?" she asked with a frown. "I was already here!"

"No, you weren't." Nanao tapped away at the keys, her brows now furrowed. "Go get everything in order, Kuchiki."

Ichigo tapped Rukia on the shoulder with a look of horror etched into his features. He grabbed her schedule and compared them:

NAME: KUROSAKI, ICHIGO GENDER: M GRADE: 10 DORMITORY #: 423B. DIVISION: GREEN.  
NAME: KUCHIKI, RUKIA GENDER: F GRADE: 10 DORMITORY #: 423B. DIVISION: GREEN.

It all clicked, and they looked at each other. Ichigo was shaking his head over and over.

"B-b-but!" Rukia said, trying not to hyperventilate. "Boys and girls can't share! My dad will…" she shook her head, trying to imagine any possible way that Byakuya wouldn't empty his shotguns into Ichigo's skull.

"Not my problem," Nanao said in a lax tone, closing Rukia's schedule and opening a document that was obviously much more important. "Go. Get. Settled," she commanded, and her eyes were icy blue daggers. Rukia wanted to slap her, and her lip quivered, but she said nothing. Sharing a dorm with Ichigo!? This meant she wouldn't only have to deal with him in class, but when she went to sleep and woke up too! He would _always _be there!!!

"Damn," the redhead sighed as they strode down the hallway. "Some luck we've got, Kuchiki."

Her nostrils flared as she took that in. "No, Ichigo, there is no _we. _It's ME who has the crappy luck here. First Akamori for a sister and now this!? Someone must hate me up there." She tilted her chin toward the sky.

Ichigo made a noise that sounded like he was laughing, but his expression told her otherwise. "Let's get to… our dorm then," he said reluctantly. Rukia nodded, her face solemn.

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

"411… 412… 413…" Ichigo counted as the doors continued to zoom by. He walked so quickly she had to run just to keep up, but it was worth it. She wanted to see her dorm and get this stupid bag off her shoulder. She wanted to rest. She wanted to come to terms with the fact that… she would be spending the whole year with Ichigo.

"Ah, Tatsuki! I found it!" Orihime's voice said, momentarily stopping her thinking. The shapely redhead was sliding her student ID through the slot needed to enter, but Rukia couldn't see inside at this angle. Moments later, Tatsuki ran up the hallway.

"You did? Good thinking, Orihime," she praised. Rukia was just getting ready to turn away when Tatsuki gave her a blank look – emotionless as it was, it still hurt on a a level.

"Ahm… Rukia?" Ichigo said.

"Yeah?" she tore herself away. "All right! Let's unlock this sucker!" she said with a bit too much enthusiasm.

"…All right." Ichigo pulled out his ID and paused. "Do the honors?" he asked, extending a powerfully built arm out to hand her the ID. With slightly trembling fingers she slid it through the little machine, which made a pleasant beeping noise and lit up green.

"It's like a hotel," she remarked.

Ichigo shrugged. "I guess." With his foot he nudged the door ajar, showing a large front room and two other doors. There was a couch in the center of said front room, but it was conservative and mostly wooden. A very sparing television sat on a beech wood shelf near the two doors, which were white. Otherwise the room was empty.

"…" She was slightly taken aback by the lack of furnishings, but perked up when she saw her many trunks and bags in the corner. "My stuff!" she exclaimed, running into the room and crouching down near the bags. They were exactly the same as they'd been last week, when Toshiro had helped her pack.

Ichigo's lone suitcase was among them, and he was smirking. "High-maintenance."

Rukia whirled around. "I am not. I act low maintenance all the time!"

"No you don't." He looked solemn, as if this directly impacted him.

"Yes I do." She bit down hard on her lip.

"No you don't." _I'm not giving up until she agrees._

"Yes I do." _I'm not backing down._

"You only think you do." Ichigo settled down on the couch and put his feet up on the beech coffee table.

"What is this, anyway?" she frowned.

"There are two kinds of girls, but midget, you're the pits. You're high maintenance but you _think_ you're low maintenance."

"I don't see that." Rukia unzipped her bag and began to look for her sheets… they had to be here somewhere…

"Of course not, my point." He stretched out and closed his eyes, looking absurdly casual.

"…Grr!" Rukia let out an oddly feral growl. "Ichigo, you ass."

He opened one eye. "Oh, you're so nice," he said, standing up with no prior warning. "Rukia. You're an ass, too, hello." He rolled his eyes and dragged his bag into the other room, which was basically empty with the exception of an extremely large closet.

"What the hell…?" Rukia said as he pulled two beds down out of the closet. Being a Kuchiki she had never seen such things before.

"They're called Murphy beds," he allowed, sliding a black sheet across his own and dropping a fat, fluffy pillow near the top. "You see? Again, high maintenance Kuchiki. Doesn't know what a Murphy bed is…"

"…Shut up," she said waspishly, pulling her Chappy sheets out and trying to make do by putting them on her bed. _Shit… this isn't working for me… shit, shit, shit._

"Need help?" Ichigo asked with a smirk. And when he reached out to pull the sheets over, their hands touched for the briefest moment. Both jerked away as a gut reaction, and Rukia looked off in the opposite direction. Sounds of fabric told her he was still working on them after several minutes had passed.

"Ichigo?"

"Mhm?" said his voice.

She turned around to see all of her stuffed animals on the bed. "Ichigo, what!? I left those in my roo—" suddenly she realized. _Damn Toshiro. _

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**Okay... I know it was way too short. Gosh. But I needed a new chap up, and badly so. Well. Hopefully you've seen Bleach: Memories of Nobody? Senna… well, it's about her. And I guess you can tell why she's in the story now? Those of you who've read Akamori probably already knew before I even put Toshiro into the story. It's funny how things work out that way, huh? Hitsu/Sen. Anywho, I hope you liked the chap… and I might put some Bya/Hisa or Ren/Mori in the next chap, I just don't know about that yet… it depends on how I feel… on the upside the weekend is almost here and I'll get a lot of writing done. I'll put anything in a story (just as long as it doesn't destroy my plot) so if you wanna see something let me know. :D Anyway, until next time,**

**-SW**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**


	14. Basketball & Dancing

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**  
**She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

_I don't blame you for being you, but you can't blame me for hating it._

-Fall Out Boy

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l  
**

"All right!" said Ikkaku Madarame, brandishing an odd wooden sword toward his first period class. "Roll call." He was a tall, thin person with a shiny bald scalp that looked completely natural… and yet, he didn't seem too old. Weird. It was like Byakuya – nearing 50, but looking 30.

Rukia looked at Ichigo through her peripheral vision, and no surprise, he looked bored as hell. This pleased her, because he could never have fun when she wasn't having fun. Things just worked out that way. With a blue and white striped pencil, she doodled a row of diamonds on the desk as Mr. Madarame (pssh) called out the names.

"Rukia Kuchiki?" he finally said, raising an eyebrow.

"Here," she said tonelessly, dragging the eraser across the desk and making trails with it.

"Ichigo Kurosa—" he said, letting his paper go slack. "Isshin's son?"

Ichigo deadpanned. "I'm the one." Rukia hated to admit this in her head or elsewhere, but Ichigo could be cool when he wanted to be.

"Hm." Mr. Madarame made a mark on his attendance sheet and continued calling roll. Rukia wondered what was so special about Isshin – to her, he had just seemed like an annoying, overprotective father who had some weird obsession with his son's girlfriends – err, friends. "All right!" he said, tapping the desk with that wooden sword. "Rules then."

"I don't like know-it-alls, suck-ups, teachers' pets, overly pepped people, or people who draw all the time. And, I don't like that Archuleta person. Or… Obama." He shook his head.

"Obama won," Ichigo protested, raising his eyebrows.

"No… really?" said Mr. Madarame with a roll of his eyes. "I hadn't noticed." He met Ichigo's feigned confusion with acerbic sarcasm. "But if you'd like to be the teacher instead, that's fine."

Ichigo frowned and stared at his notebook.

"Anyway, gum … fine, but I don't want to see it swimming around in your saliva like a fish." Mr. Madarame opened a nearby drawer and unearthed what appeared to be an old Literature textbook. "And I don't… want to see this." He pulled it open with some difficulty, given the fact that pale pink ropes of gum had cemented the pages into one. "This is thanks to a particular… horror… by the name of Kuchiki, from the last school I taught at."

Rukia looked up. "Akamori?" that was weird. Akamori had never told Rukia about having done anything odd at school.

"Girl's a piece of work," Mr. Madarame said with a grimace.

Rukia sympathized greatly with him on this point. Akamori was nice-looking and all, but who could stand her? Other than Renji, that is… but he was defective in some manner.

"Okay. Another thing I hate. Phones ringing." His dark eyes were probing the room for any sign of this pet peeve. "If Billie Joe has to tell Sally about whatever, he can text her. End of story." Ichigo sniffed disdainfully but said nothing. Rukia again wondered about it – he didn't seem to call many people.

"Okay, well… then, you can leave, I don't want to look at you people," he said stoically, sitting down in a rolley chair Rukia wanted. "Get."

Next period, Rukia saw Ms. Ise again, scribbling away at an official-looking paper.

She did not look up when they entered, which was probably fine with everyone. Rukia had liked Mr. Madarame much better, by far, and class hadn't even started.

Ichigo folded his schedule in half, then in fourths, and slipped it in his shirt pocket.

"So, Rukia."

_What do you want now, Ichigo? _

"Yes?" she sighed.

"Your sister called me a few minutes back." He sounded completely nonchalant for something this unforeseen.

"Really?" Wow. Akamori had actually taken the time to make a phone call. "What did she have to say?" for now, Rukia couldn't think of any reason why her sister would even want to be involved with any part of the family.

"Yeah, she was just wondering what you were doing," he explained with a shrug.

"Oh." Since when did Akamori care about Rukia's school life? "How's Renji?"

"I dunno." Ichigo apparently hadn't being paying much attention to the phone call.

Toshiro sat nearby, his face brooding. His arms were bent so he could rest his chin on them, and his jaw was stiff as rigor mortis.

"Toshiro?" Rukia asked uncertainly.

"Yes?" replied he monotonously.

"Um… you okay? You've been acting weird." Yeah, weird. There's an understatement. Every time she'd seen Toshiro in the hallway his eyes had been cold, his entire being distant from her. Not that he was a warm person in general, but it had been magnified.

"I'm fine, Rukia." His tone closed the subject indefinitely.

"Al right, we'll start now," said Ms. Ise suddenly, slapping down her pen and scraping the chair across the floor as she stood so abruptly. "This is Algebra II. Basic for your level, but hard to master. Any questions?"

Everyone looked like they'd been lobotomized.

"Okay then. Now, we'll start with…" she pulled out a list of lessons and pored over it for a few moments before continuing, "proportions."

_Aren't proportions… eighth grade? _Rukia frowned as she took one of the blue papers and passed it back. It was about ten squares, a set on each side of the paper, each with its own individual problem in it.

"This is your Skill Sheet. I give them on Monday and expect them by Friday," Ms. Ise said tersely. "It's a zero if I don't get it then, and all of these are placed in your averages. Got that?"

A rumble of chatter erupted again, this time loud. For a moment there, she wanted to barf – an odd sensation, but now there wasn't time to… oh. Her stomach was making the strangest lurches, bending in complete disorder. Her throat was heavy and parched on the inside…

And it was a spectacular performance, the vomiting – a blend of her brightly colored Chappy candy and the smoothie as well created a cotton candy-esque mixture. Where was all of this _coming _from, anyway?

"Fuck!" Ichigo cursed, bending to get up. She felt his hand come down on her back… warm… "I, well, nurse…"

"Go," Nanao sighed. "Someone get up here and clean up, if you would be so kind…**"  
**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l  
**

"Ur…" Rukia moaned, feeling a foamy blob of something beneath her small body. _This is worse than Ouran reruns… make it stop…_

"So, she got sick in class?" said a gentle voice distantly. Rukia wanted to know who was talking about her but didn't have the strength – pathetic as it sounded – to turn her head right now. Sick on the first day?

Vomit Girl. A good caption for her yearbook picture.

"Yeah. Colorful stuff," said Ichigo's voice, and she jumped. Ichigo was here? Couldn't she be away from him for two seconds, please?! "What do I do?"

The person too some time to think. "Well, you could take her back to her dormitory for the day. Make sure she doesn't try and leave it, okay?"

Ichigo sounded exhausted. "I _just _carried her here. So I have to babysit the midget?"

He'd carried her. Hm. Of course, she had known he was strong, but… why?

This was added to her subconscious list of questions involving the obnoxious strawberry.

"Babysit her? I suppose so, if that's how you'd like to say it," the woman said, sounding indifferent to Ichigo's choice of words. "I would say she's got the flu. It is autumn, after all."

Ichigo sighed darkly. "Okay. Thanks." The sound of light footsteps began clearly and began to pitter-patter away, until they were gone completely. Rukia squeezed her lips together. _If I say something, I'll spray this office with more smoothie. _The thought didn't appeal to her, and she kept silent. A glaring quiet passed, pertaining to her fear of vomiting and his stubbornness.

"Mr. Kurosaki? You should take her back now," said the gentle voice distantly, and Rukia calmed a little. To be off this mushy whatever-it-was and into her bed was a warm thought.

"Yeah," Ichigo said blankly, and Rukia let one of her eyes slide open. Ichigo, standing against a white brick wall with the ghastly pink substance in a warped pattern across his white shirt. Guilt crushed her for a second; didn't he only have one uniform? Damn flu. "Rukia?"

To show that she heard, Rukia settled for making a guttural noise in the back of her throat.

"Let's go," he said, and she moaned inwardly. Moving her body would most likely result in an explosion of vomit all over what she figured was the nurse's office. But then she felt the warm arms again, and her body leaving the mushy something, and the inner noise was ultimately qualmed. "Damn. You dead or something?" She moaned.

"Guess not," Ichigo said, and she felt his feet hit the ground. T-t-t-t-t. It shook her belly.

"Ichigo...go.." she protested. He sighed and, ... she felt it on her neck. Warm and minty. Ichigo smell. For a second it stunned her into submission. But then his pace slowed and she was comfortable... as if there were no viruses having a soirée in her stomach.

After a long time, she heard the happy beep of the dormitory's ID Key. Rukia hadn't known she'd been so sick as to lose track of time so severely, but then again nothing really surprised her nowadays. She felt the trump of his feet across the wooden floor, and then across the carpet... and then the warm arms released her. Under her was something much softer than the mushy thing in the nurse's office... with one peek she knew it was her bed. Her amethyst eyes stroked upward, reaching a tired-looking Ichigo.

"Go to sleep," he commanded darkly.

She blinked lethargically. "Ichigo, I --"

"Rukia," he sighed, shuffling across the room and plopping down on his own bed. For some reason her surging feeling from earlier that summer repeated itself... "What the hell did you eat?"

"I... Chappy, smoothie..." she felt the need to burp. But not in front of Ichigo... he'd make a really weird face.

"Well... whatever happens happens I guess," Ichigo said morosely. "Like I said earlier. You've got some really bad luck."

_It's almost as bad as Bella from Twilight. _

"Guess so..."

"So," he said quietly. "What's up with that?"

"Dunno..."

"Huh."

It was quiet, then, for a little while. Rukia sat and let her sickness festoon around in her stomach, her eyelids heavy and crashing in on themselves. Ichigo watched her, eyes dark and probing, but she could not see. Why the hell did Rukia have to get sick? It should've been Hitsugaya or somebody less important.

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

Later that day, Toshiro was in the hallway. Simply. He was waiting for PE, having had no intention of going to Chinese. What reasons would he have for studying such a language? Toshiro had no intention of moving to a communist nation. Apparently his aunt hadn't thought of that. So now he had decided to lean next to the water fountain and tap away at his cell phone, wondering why it still functioned. Hadn't his ... his mother been paying the bill?

He snapped the phone shut as the bell permeated his eardrums like a screaming child, and slipped it into his pocket. With a glance at the map he found that the gymnasium was just down the hallway, through matching white doors. He was the first one inside.

It was large with a dark-wood floor that looked more like some form of studio than a gym. Nonetheless he sat, cross legged, on the floor silently. One by one students milled inside, chattering on and on about idiotic things that probably wouldn't matter if they thought about them more deeply. He caught the words _date _and _hair _and _cute. _Of course this was all most teenagers thought of. Toshiro knew. He wasn't morbid or anything. Just wise for his years. Precocious.

"All right!" said a gravelly voice, apparently omitting from the stocky, dark haired man in the middle of the room. Toshiro remembered something Akamori had said. _Gym teachers are idiots with whistles. _And for once he believed his cousin. The guy looked tough but that seemed to be all. "I'm gonna partner you for basketball! Right off the bat. Good way to get to know people, eh?"

Toshiro blinked, frowning. _Yes, definitely an idiot. _But, when pointed to, he was a little more unconscious of his actions.

"You! White hair!"

"Pardon?" he murmured.

"Hitsugaya! Over there, with... Shuurin!"

The burly man with the almost black hair from earlier stepped forward. Toshiro remembered him as one of Senna's brothers. His cognac eyes were dark. "You any good with basketball?" he asked in a voice unlike the playful tone he'd used with his sister.

"Not basketball. Soccer," Toshiro replied monotonously.

"Well then. Soccer kid. I'm Hideki." Hideki... '_excellence'._

An odd name. "Toshiro." _Son of the winter lion._

Nearby, he spotted her. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail by a malleable red ribbon, and she wore a gray T-shirt with black shorts and plain white tennis-shoes. Marring her still was the deep bruise. Otherwise, she seemed to be quite fit and strong – muscular but soft as well. And there was an undeniable cuteness to her.

"What're you looking at?" jabbed Hideki's voice.

"I – nothing," Toshiro ad-libbed quickly.

The dark haired guy narrowed his brown eyes. "Look. I'll try and make this as simple as I can. My sister's not gonna play that game with you."

Toshiro felt confused. "What?"

"She's not like that, soccer kid. I know people like you. Back off my sister or else," Hideki seethed menacingly.

He didn't reply; just swallowed hard. He knew why he couldn't look at Senna. He'd known since he'd first seen her. Something about the way Hideki kept his body angled in the direction of his sister reminded him of Hiroko and her insecurity. Toshiro felt his neck crane downward, the way it always did when he was upset.

"So." Hideki threw a basketball, and somehow Toshiro caught it expertly. "Trying out for soccer?"

The smaller man looked up. "Is there a team?"

Hideki shrugged. "Yeah, there is..."

Toshiro thought it over. Soccer, when he'd been free to practice, had always been his forte. He was small and lean and ran quickly. Plus... being on some form of team might earn him friends. "I suppose so."

Hideki arched a dark brow. "You suppose so? What's up with that?"

"All right, I'll do it," Toshiro decided.

"My kinda man," Hideki said with a nod. "Basketball, soccer, football, volleyball, archery, flags and cheerleading --" he rolled his eyes, "all have tryouts tonight. Meet you here? I'll teach ya how to break into the snack machine."

"You know already?"

"Sure. First thing I do at a new school is check the machines. At least one always has a glitch." He and Toshiro began to pass the ball back and forth, and it slammed into the white-haired boy's chest. "Sorry. Guess I don't know my own strength, ah?"

Toshiro kneaded his ribs.

"...Mm."

"Hideki!" called Senna. Toshiro's stomach did a back flip that could rival the Chinese Olympic Medalists. She jogged over lithely and stopped, violet hair swaying, in front of her brother. "Hey. I'm tired. Water for me?" she asked childishly, but in a good way. Toshiro realized he must look extremely stupid just holding on to a basketball like this.

Hideki rolled his eyes. "C'mon, girl. Don't be lazy."

Senna expanded her eyes and puckered her lips. "Please?"

"I'll get it," Toshiro said without thinking.

Hideki's eyes flared.

_Shit. Can I be any more ignorant?_

Senna stopped her begging tirade and focused her large orbs on Toshiro. "Huh? Hi!" she flashed bright teeth. "I'm Senna!"

He was momentarily dazed. "Toshiro."

"_Son of the winter lion, _huh? That's what it means? Cool!" Senna placed a finger to her mouth. "But I wonder. Is your dad anything like a winter lion?"

Toshiro felt himself smile – a tiny smile. "Sort of." _If it made her happy_... In a way, she reminded him of Alice in Wonderland, from the nursery rhyme. Somewhat bored by solitary life and looking for something better.

Hideki, he noticed, didn't seem as angry as when Senna had first arrived. His eyes were somewhat relaxed but still on edge, his tightly pressed lips loose. _That's right, eat your words. I mean no harm, jock, _Thought Toshiro devilishly.

"Uhm, Toshi?" said Senna.

He found himself befuddled.

"Toshi?"

"It's a good name for you!" she decided suddenly. "I name people... but only when the new name sounds cute!" she said, as if this were the rule of thumb.

"If you say so," he replied.

"Toshiro, water," Hideki reminded stonily.

"Mmm, I don't want any!" his sister decided, shaking her head with a smile. "Because there's no time! _Ne_!"

And, at that second, the bell rang. For some reason Toshiro felt pangs of pain as he heard it.

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

"Hey, Rukia, I'm turning on the radio," Ichigo said, standing next to the stereo near the window. "You mind?"

Rukia, whose sickness had subsided a while ago, shrugged. "Whatever you want..." she was currently engrossed in Louis Sachar's _Holes. _She'd found it packed with her things – among all of her other books Toshiro had shoved in her bag. He had a passion for reading, a trait they shared.

"I should've left you at the nurse's," he said, fiddling with the dial. Tidbits of random songs buzzed through the room. "I swear, Rukia. It's like you're my daughter or something."

"Mm," she murmured, biting down on a piece of chocolate.

"Never mind," he said, finally stopping the wheel and sighing as an upbeat song started. Rukia vaguely remembered this song from earlier that summer, June maybe. Akamori had been in love with it, and it was a good song. Ichigo seemed to be enjoying it a little, his face relaxed as he sprawled out over his bed.

_  
Waking up at the start of the end of the world,  
But it's feeling just like every other morning before,  
Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it's gone _

_The cars are moving like a half a mile an hour  
And I started staring at the passengers who're waving goodbye  
Can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time? _

The tempo increased tenfold, Rukia's favorite part of all songs. She forgot entirely about the book she was – or had been – reading, snapping it shut and munching on her chocolate. She crossed her legs and sat Indian-style, nodding her head in tune to it.

_I believe the world is burning to the ground  
Oh well I guess we're gonna find out  
Let's see how far we've come  
Let's see how far we've come  
Well I believe it all is coming to an end _

One of Ichigo's eyes slid open, taking in Rukia bobbing her head to the music. She looked so happy for someone who had barfed a little while ago – but hey. She was Rukia, a wunderkind. "You like this song?"

"What?!" she yelled over the music.

"I said, do you like this song!?" he bellowed.

"Yeah!" she said, looking somewhat gleeful.

_Oh well, I guess, we're gonna pretend,  
Let's see how far we've come  
Let's see how far we've come  
_

Ichigo felt his feet moving back and forth. Oh, God no. He didn't like to dance and was not going to. No, no. NO DANCING! Damn. He was fighting with himself over dancing. But of course a man wouldn't dance to the radio, unlike Rukia... who was doing some sort of swing dance to the music, on her feet near the stereo.

_I think it turned ten o'clock but I don't really know  
And I can't remember caring for an hour or so  
Started crying and I couldn't stop myself  
I started running but there's no where to run to _

"Ichigo!" she said, raising her eyebrows. "Do you like music at all!?"

"Yes!" he rolled his eyes, "I just don't dance!!"

"Killjoy!" she called.

_I sat down on the street took a look at myself  
Said where you going man you know the world is headed for hell  
Say your goodbyes if you've got someone you can say goodbye to _

Ichigo sighed. Rukia thinking of him as a killjoy, for some reason, was not an appealing thought. He wondered why she valued music so much. Did she at all, or was she trying to make a fool out of him? Wait, why would he care what she thought? She was a midget! A MIDGET WITH AN OCTOPUS HEAD AND LITTLE FEET!

"Ichigo!" said midget shrieked.

He sighed yet again. "What!?"

"Just get up!" she moaned, turning down the dial. "I'm tired of your killjoyness!"

"That's not a word, first of all."

"So?"

"SO, everyone needs to have fun," she Rukia said presumptuously. "Besides, how often do we get to stay home? I don't think we do!"

Ichigo murmured his dissent. "Rukia, please."

_I believe the world is burning to the ground  
Oh well I guess we're gonna find out  
Let's see how far we've come  
Let's see how far we've come_

Ichigo stretched out on his bed, but in the opposite direction this time. He was tired of listening to her nag him – but he stopped thinking about it. Rukia had some rhythm. Weirdly enough. Who knew a short girl who was anything but graceful could dance so well.

And he didn't notice when the song ended. "Kurosaki!"

"Huh?" he blinked.

"You okay?" she asked, arching a delicate black eyebrow. Ichigo looked so weird right now. "You look... weird," she decided.

He gave wry smile. "Whatever, midget..."

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**Hoo. Finally. I've been battling writer's block for a little while now. But at least I got it done. The song is How Far We've Come by Matchbox 20 (or Twenty, if you're a stickler for stuff like that. I wanted to put a song in this chap :D anyway... check out my new IchiRuki story, Rhapsody. It's cool... sorta. Well. I liked writing it and um... reviews'd be awesome!**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**

**l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l**


	15. Let Me Sign

l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l

She's Like the Moon, an xSilverWingsx fanfic

_In my fantasy, you look good entwined in my hair and skin and sweat and spilled red wine. You're my deep secret. I'm your pantomime._

-Incubus

l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l

Toshiro exhaled deeply, pulling in another drag on his cigarette. Soon he would try out for soccer, his best sport, but then why was he so nervous? This and other conundrums bounced around in his mind. Where was Rukia? And since it was Friday, what would he do in his dorm after tryouts? He pushed the thoughts away and gazed at the sky. It was barely twilight, blooms of purple and pink still fluctuating behind the evening cloud cover. His teal orbs roamed the field, taking in its extensive length. But the blades had already begun to yellow. This being a new school, it was a shame for lethargy this early.

It was somewhat cold as well, his arms slightly chilled, but he liked it. If he made the team, it would be an excuse to spend more time outside. He tipped the cigarette ashes into the box. Needless to say, their presence on the field wouldn't be in any way beneficial.

"Hey, Hitsugaya." Hideki was suddenly leaning against the fence next to him. Toshiro exhaled a flurry of smoke, and the dark haired man blinked at the billowing waves. "...I didn't know you were into that." He seemed sharp and alert to everything Toshiro was doing now.

"I self-medicate," he explained dryly, dropping the spent cigarette into the carton. "Now, when are these tryouts?"

Hideki glanced at his watch. "Uh... they should start soon."

"I see." Teal orbs looked at the ground.

"So what position do you play?" Hideki asked, suddenly curious.

"Why?" Toshiro gave him a blank look.

_If you don't want me around her, why are you being so nice to me? _

The tall man sighed. "I'm just wondering." His eyes were a deep orange color, with flecks of brown and green near the pupils. Toshiro found himself glaring. What the hell was wrong with this guy? He had no idea of what it was like to be trounced by the very people who brought him into the world. From day one.

And then he remembered the bruise on Senna's leg. It made him even angrier on the inside.

"…I'm an all around player," Toshiro replied shakily, leaning over slipping the cigarette box in his duffel bag nearby to hide his disturbing expression. He had to try to get the box inside. Once. Twice. Three times. His body wouldn't follow him. "And… you? What position are you… in basketball?"

_I don't want to talk to you, Hideki Shuurin. I didn't want to meet you…_

"Guard," Hideki murmured.

"SHIRO!" shrieked a highly resonant voice.

Toshiro's nervous system felt a jolt. All of his spikes seemed to be on end. Momo? He hadn't… she… he hadn't noticed her earlier. The brunette stood near the school's entrance, in knee socks and shorts, a loose T-shirt hanging over her frame.

He blinked convulsively. "Momo?" his voice cracked. Momo, his friend, the one he'd screamed at and forced off the property.

"Hi, Shiro!" she called to him. "I didn't know you were trying out for soccer! Cool!"

And she was the one with the short attention span. "Well, I… you know I like soccer…" he said almost incoherently.

She giggled. "Yeah, I know! Do you know where the volleyball tryouts are!? I'm so lost!" she pleaded, hair slightly messy. Apparently she'd been running around – not surprising. Momo had always been a little harebrained.

Where did volleyball typically take place? "I'd try the –"

Hideki cut him off. "They're in the gym."

Momo's brown eyes were startled. "…Thanks!" Apparently, after seeing him with Toshiro, Momo had decided Hideki was innocent enough.

_Damn, not her too…_

"Bye, Shiro!" she waved a thin hand and bolted back into the building.

_Ah, Momo. If you had a longer attention span, I'd apologize but you've probably already forgotten. _

"Your friend?" asked Hideki, sounding genuinely curious.

_The bastard. _

"Yes."

And then he got what he wanted. Blessed silence – at least for a few moments. For some reason the air was a bit warmer, which irked him. Its consistency was also a little thin, something he did not need. Oxygen was already being lamented by his throat, as the biting air lacerated the inside of his mouth and always made him feel sick. He held on to the fence, resisting the urge to backhand the man next to him.

Senna walked – bounced was more accurate, because her feet didn't seem to crunch the dying grass – across the field, a thin white lollipop stick protruding from shell-pink lips. Clinging to her unadorned body were matching sweats: a blue stretch tank top and Capri pants. She noticed them. "Hi!"

"What are you doing here?"

Toshiro's eyes slashed red behind their sockets.

_And he acts like she's annoying him. _

Hideki raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were going for volleyball."

Senna frowned. "I don't like volleyball, smart one, I was kidding." She easily threw one leg over the fence and hopped with the other, landing somewhat ungracefully next to Toshiro. "Hi, Toshi!" she appeared to have just noticed his presence.

He balked somewhat on the inside, but kept his cool. "Hello, Senna."

"I came to watch the tryouts!" she said happily, pulling out the orange lollipop that was glowing in the moonlight. "But… there's nobody here…hm." She frowned and stuck the candy back inside her mouth.

"You did?" somehow, she didn't strike Toshiro as a sporty girl. Then again, many people thought Rukia was shy when they first met her. First impressions could be deceiving.

"Toshiro's an all around, right Toshiro?"

_What the hell do you think we're doing, Shuurin? _

"I… well, yes…"

She seemed confused for a moment. Then – "COOL, TOSHI!"

"…Thank you…" _Well. At least there's one upside to this._

l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l

Across town, it was also cold. Renji was going to hate leaving his warm car and trudging through the frost-enveloped grass. He sighed unhappily and picked up the grocery bags nudged under the seat, tearing one in the process and sending cans into the backseat. _Damn plastic._

Somehow he managed to stuff it all into one bag and, after slamming the car door shut with his foot, shuffled across the freezing lawn. The front door waited welcomingly, but it wasn't locked. His forehead bowed into a frown. Akamori never left the house.

When the door swung open, the bags tumbled to the floor.

A state of turmoil met his eyes. Pillows lay across the foyer, their downy guts spilling onto the muddy carpet. The pendulum from the clock was broken and covered in down, and a vase lay shattered in the corner, and there was a large tear in the wallpaper. Broken glass littered the floor. Renji realized with a growing horror that he'd been right.

Akamori hadn't left the house. But someone had come calling.

He forgot the groceries and called her name.

No answer.

_Is she all right?_

His heart thumped ridiculously fast, feet following in its rhythm as he raced the stairs and the hallway and his door. It had always been stubborn but today it gave him no trouble. And time moved in what seemed like something a million times slower than seconds.

_No._

She lay in the corner, hair matted with blood. Renji could smell it from across the room. Black and blue legs were twisted at an odd angle, and her hands were almost entirely red, curled over the stomach swollen with his child.

His legs failed him and he fell down on her, arms encircling the damaged body. She smelled like Akamori, but the beaten creature couldn't _be_ her… he moved the ebony hair from her blood-splattered face, which was remarkably the same pure white in areas, with three gashes stretching from her forehead across her nose, down to her cheek. Renji felt himself twitch as he felt along her gashed neck.

_What the hell was I thinking? _

A few moments later, he saw miracle-like movement behind the thin eyelids. The slightest glimmer of light could be seen as they opened, and the amber eyes were almost black. Feeling re-entered his body…

"Akamori?"

She made a strangled noise in her throat. But this part wasn't at all expected. "…broken tree…" she croaked in a parched voice. "…struck the sky. Let me sign."

"What?" he knew she wasn't all there, and he couldn't expect anything more out of her. But then she continued.

"…tell him," she said, and this sounded as if she had feeling behind it. "Just please tell him for me." She was staring, determined, into his eyes. "Please."

He felt like the world had been swallowed away. "Tell him what?" even though he hadn't the faintest clue of who '_he' _was, everything inside pulled him to ask. A few droplets of blood fell from her mouth onto his jeans. "Akamori?"

Renji yanked out his cell phone and dialed 911.

l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l l

Define the following.

**Zhonghua**

**minzu**

**Yayue**

**Qiu**

**Ying**

Rukia stared at the paper. None of this made a fragment of since to her, seeing as she'd spent yesterday's Chinese class dancing to Matchbox 20. With stiff fingers she tapped Ichigo's desk, but he just shrugged and shook his head. Again. He was not helping in the academic department, but she had a hunch that he was pretty sharp. Zhonghua minzu… that sounded like some kind of Chinese pie.

"Pass your papers forward," said Soifon, who had insisted upon being called Soifon for some reason unbeknownst to them all. Pinyin Chinese translated it to Shaolin Fon. She was a petite, slender woman with black hair in cloth braids and cold grey eyes. "If you didn't get done take it with you."

Rukia folded the paper into eighths and slipped it in her lapel pocket, but as soon as she had done so a low groan escaped her lips. PE next. Spectacular. The youngest Kuchiki followed an oddly quiet Ichigo to the dorm, and was even more surprised when he threw her her gym bag. Usually she would have to get it on her own or something. Regardless, now…

"Rukia Kuchiki has a phone call in the office," said a voice over the intercom, and Rukia felt herself frown. Her mother? No… Byakuya?

"Ichigo, I'll see you soon," she murmured, walking past the confused carrot top. She heard a noise of confusion omit from him, and he followed her into the hall, disheveled as he was.

"Rukia? What is it?" he asked. "Rukia!" he called, frown so deep it looked fused to his face.

"I don't know," she said. _Ichigo, please. Just go to PE. _"Ichigo, just go."

Ichigo watched her closely. Her round violet eyes were worried, an inflection he'd never seen in them. She was too put together for that stuff. "Hey."

"Yes?" she was on a mission and was not going to turn around at this point. When Byakuya called, there was no time for games.

"Damn it, Rukia…" he shook his head, at a loss for words.

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After bidding farewell to Ichigo, Rukia took the elevator to the office. The phone waited on hold, and when she tried to catch one of the Assistants' eyes, they were all too busy to give her any further information. That figured. With stiff fingers she picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Rukia." Her heart sank. It was her father. "Are you all right?" Byakuya sounded concerned and his tone was hollow.

"Yes, I'm okay, I am," she stammered, nodding repeatedly. Her hair bobbed up and down, strands sticking to her already sweaty forehead. "What's happened?" a lot of things were possible with her mother. Had she gotten worse… or even better?

He sighed, despondently.

She felt her whole body go up in shock. Her father? Emotionally freaked out like this?

"Rukia. Your sister just went into labor."

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**Mhm, so that's the end of that chapter. I apologize if parts got a little… horrid. It's 6 AM, and I was up all night writing this chapter in one sitting. Hhh… It's still too short. …Oh well. I promise the next one will be better, but you might have to wait a little while for it. I'm in some kind of dead state right now where I'm still on and thinking. Honestly, I'm not blinking as I type this. If there are typos I will personally put my computer in time-out. And if spaces are bad, my apologies as well. My space bar is loosening. Damn. All right well, I'd really like reviews… I'll return the favor, if you're a user… and if you're anonymous we'll work something out.**

**Love from the nocturnal xSilverWingsx**

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	16. Byakuya and Akamori: Reprise

Mood: Fed-up. Music: My Name Is, by Eminem. (I've been told that writing your mood down and music and crap is supposed to help. Gwah.) I'm still tired as shit. And in effect this is probably being published late. On a lighter note, I think it would be good to say that if I cared what people thought about my writing I wouldn't get a single word written. Also know I'm not talking to anyone in particular, this is just a nice public service announcement, which is probably a moot point anyway because no one ever reads these A/N things. I don't like to start shit. Eheh, anyway! Boring as I seem, I do have a life, which is another reason for the late publishing. And I have a lot of ranting to do, but it won't be in my author's notes. I'm ranting to the person for whom I wrote the story. IDK, MY BFF SECCABERRY. K THX. Unless you don't know your ass from your elbow, you can probably tell I'm stressed out. Go easy on me.

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She's Like the Moon, an x**SilverWings**x fanfic

I need to find you, to tell you I'm sorry.

-Coldplay

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Toshiro wiped his forehead of sweat with the back of his hand and heaved a sigh.

He'd expected these soccer tryouts to be effortless, or on a comfortable level at least. The players had been instructed to run three miles, kicking the ball around cones as they went. He had finished in the top seven, but every aching muscle in his body reminded him it hadn't been as easy as he'd anticipated.

The only spectators were Senna and the coaches, who seemed to be annoyed by her presence. She had gotten overexcited several times, picking up the megaphone to cheer for people, not noticing when she hit the head coach with it.

He settled near the fence and retied his shoes. On the backward circuit he'd almost tripped over the laces. That was completely idiotic.

"Toshi," said Senna, who was suddenly kneeling next to him. "You look lethargic to me." Her orange eyes seemed too limited for her curiosity, and he wondered where she had come up with the world lethargic. He could tell she wasn't stupid, but at times she gave the impression of being simple-minded.

Toshiro blinked at her. "I am, Senna," he confirmed, pulling out his water and straightening up to full-height – which barely surpassed her collarbone, "So, where's your brother?" Hideki's absence was a good thing, but he wanted to be sure if the brunette was going to burst in.

"Basketball practice. He left… like ten minutes after you started," she explained, watching as he gulped the water. The bottle contracted in on itself when he reached the bottom. "Want to go get more?" she asked brightly.

Toshiro glanced at the base of the bottle, wanting to make sure there was no water left. When he found none, he agreed. "Yes." Senna, despite her childish demeanor, had a strange warming effect to her. He hoisted his bag up onto his shoulder and followed her across the field, which reflected the gleam of the overhead lighting.

"So," she said inquiringly, "what got you into soccer?"

He thought about the question for a moment. "Well, it was easy for me," he replied simply. It still seemed odd that she was so interested in what he did. A girl with five brothers definitely got her fill of sports-related conversations.

"Oh," Senna said in a fulfilled tone. She tilted her head to the side. "How long have you been playing?"

"Since I was six." The crickets were quiet this evening, to his chagrin. They calmed him, but in early winter they wouldn't be out freezing their asses off.

"Wow, I … no wonder you're so good." She grinned and he blinked several times.

"…Thank you," Toshiro said after what seemed to be an hour. He changed tack at top speed. "What are your hobbies?"

Her happy expression relaxed into a thoughtful one. "Well… I like to climb things. My brothers think it's a good hobby." She glanced back in the direction of the school. "But they're up for anything."

"Even Hideki?" he asked incredulously, feeling a frown settle in.

"Hideki, Takashi, Kazuo, Masaru, Ryouta. They're okay with any hobby just as long as I don't get hurt." Senna rolled her day glow eyes and stopped in front of the drink machine at the end of the field, nestled in between the stands. About ten multicolored drink options stood before them. "What do you want?"

Toshiro sighed. "Water, please." He suddenly remembered his money – back in his duffel bag, of no use whatsoever. He hated borrowing money. She punched in the code for the soda, and he noticed something – a large red mark across the palm of her hand. His next sentence was somewhat hesitant. "When you climb… do you … fall much?" the words had barely escaped.

She picked up the drinks from the slot at the bottom, looking confused when she handed him his water. "Do I fall? Nah." She cracked open her Dr. Pepper with a refreshing fizz and chugged it.

He sighed for what seemed like the thousandth time. This might be hard.

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The small girl let the phone sidle back onto the receiver after she dropped it. "Crap."

Ichigo's brown eyes were apprehensive. "What's up with you?" he asked, and oddly enough his tone was a little uneasy. She wouldn't expect that from Ichigo, always unperturbed Ichigo.

"It's my sister… she's having a baby." The words felt alien as they escaped her lips. It hadn't been that long ago that on her eleventh birthday, Akamori had been running through the sprinklers, barely even a preteen. And… it was always funny when it worked out this way. Her sister had always said she'd be a virgin forever and die a spinster.

Ichigo blinked, looking off to the side. "Well, it's not surprising."

Rukia glowered at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, nothing, I mean, it's just, Renji and your sister are a little… dicey."

If anything, that was true. Normally she would've carried on the argument but was a little too focused on the current situation to bother with it. "Yeah, sure." Her blue eyes gazed out the window thoughtfully.

"Need a ride?" he looked expectant but weirdly considerate as well.

Rukia looked up, her pale forehead crinkling. "Your BMW's at home… isn't it?"

"Nope, I think my dad brought it up the other day." He shrugged.

"No, thanks. I know Byakuya, he'll send someone," she assured him.

Ichigo scoffed. "Well, of course he will," he muttered, but then his expression relaxed.

"And knowing him, they might keep me home for a day or two. Maybe I'll get to spend time with the baby." She smiled in spite of herself. Being an aunt would be a good thing. Then she noticed Ichigo, who seemed a bit unhappy. She knew it was probably because he'd be stuck with Toshiro…

Ichigo's expression was earnest, his usually aggravated eyebrows relaxed and his lips slightly parted. "Well… I guess that's all right. Good for you." The corner of his mouth eased up a little, and he raised a hand for what seemed to be a casual wave, but lowered it shakily. "Later," he murmured.

"Bye, Ichigo." She smiled at his back. For an unbearable redhead, you're a good friend.

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Rukia stood outside at the gate to school, her eyes closed in thought. Akamori was pregnant? She hadn't known… and felt a little deceived to be honest. Her sister's whole life was an open book… at least most of the time. Maybe this proved to be one of those instances where she kept things to herself.

At that moment a dark car pulled up – one that she knew, but seldom saw… Byakuya's car?

He never picks me up. I guess it's a day for odd occurrences, hm?

She walked out to the car silently, making a beeline not to trip over the curb on her way. She grasped the stiff backseat handle and it opened noiselessly. Rukia slid into the car that smelled new, unintentionally meeting her father's eyes in the rearview mirror. She went pink of sheer embarrassment and looked away, fiddling with her seatbelt for a second before she felt the smooth rumble underneath her as they pulled away.

The high school zoomed past her a lot quicker than it had when she'd first arrived.

"Rukia," Byakuya said tonelessly. "How are your studies?"

She blinked. "They're fine," she lied. Having spent so much time outside school already, it was hard to understand even the most fundamental material. Ichigo had been some help, but he did get annoyed with her. "How's work?"

"Satisfactory." The turn signal clicked on as they turned sharply to the first exit. "Your mother told me Toshiro seems content enough as well."

Mom was watching Toshiro? She hadn't seemed to have been paying much attention to him at the station. "He's been in a good mood." Rukia wondered briefly how many times she would have to lie in order to ward off his questions. "How's… what's going on with Akamori?"

"Renji called the house late last night and said someone robbed their house and injured her badly. At that point I assume she went into labor." She heard his tone tighten, but was confused nonetheless.

"But, if she was hurt…"

"Apparently shock induces such things," her father explained, his flinty eyes meeting hers again. "At what point did she tell you about it?"

Rukia balked. "She never—never told me at all," she hastened to inform him, hoping this didn't sound like a lie. Akamori had never alluded to anything like that. "I haven't even seen her since July."

"Ah." He didn't seem convinced. It was very difficult to deceive him, but it was rare for him to be convinced you weren't doing so. "Well, I've been meaning to speak with her at any rate."

At this point Rukia noticed the emptiness of the passenger seat. Worry flared up in her stomach. "Where's Mother?"

"She's with Akamori," he said with the same inflection as before.

"Oh." Of course she was. Duh. "Is Akamori okay?"

"I haven't seen her up to now." They passed under a great number of streetlights, all reflecting sunlight. Rukia smiled at them in spite of herself – Akamori loved sunny days. "By the way, your mother told me she met your friend, Ichigo."

She was shocked by the lack of conflict in his voice. Rukia pinched down a swallow. "She did?"

"Hisana said, 'Ichigo is an extremely kind girl. Excellent for Rukia'. Is this true?"

Realization slowly dawned on the younger Kuchiki child. Her mother had lied for her. Not exactly holy work, but it had worked out fine. Byakuya knowing Ichigo possessed a Y chromosome was one of her most-feared occasions. "Yes, Ichigo… she's very …sound." A funny bubble of suppressed laughter lodged itself in her chest.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, correct?" Byakuya had heard that Isshin Kurosaki had two daughters and a son.

"Yes, that's her." She pursed her lips. "Ichigo's… well-mannered. She always wants to make sure I'm not getting into trouble." For a moment Rukia felt she was laying it on a bit too thick. But it was true.

Byakuya just nodded. "I see. You enjoy her company?"

"Mhm." Rukia let herself smile as they pulled in to the hospital, a dark brick building. Her mind veered off Ichigo and back onto her sister, trying very hard to process the fact that she was going to be an aunt shortly. And Renji, a father. She imagined him with a stroller and many other cliché baby things, and cracked another smile. It was difficult to imagine him in that role.

Her father left the car slowly, his movements like music as always. Rukia hopped out and landed inelegantly on the pavement, reeling slightly. She followed him through the hedges surrounding the hospital, all in orderly squares. In a minute she'd be reunited with her sister…

But she saw Renji first, sitting in the waiting room chair, tapping his feet restlessly on the floor and making a lot of noise. His hair was disheveled, but he brightened when he saw them. "Rukia!"

Rukia grinned. "Ren—" and then she remembered her father standing next to her. "Hi, Renji." Darn Byakuya. You're such a wet blanket.

Byakuya's eyes were emotionless. "Hello, Renji."

"Mr. Kuchiki!" Renji said, standing up straight. "I'm really, really sorry about—"

"Sorry?" he cut him off. Rukia felt her body freeze. Crap, Renji! Stop talking so much. "I don't see any need for apology."

It was like everything had died around them. Her hair even felt much rounder than usual. Byakuya, who hated Renji beyond anything in the world for taking the innocence of Akamori, had just been considerate. It was a shame Hisana hadn't been there to see it.

"S-so," Rukia murmured, "do you know anything yet?"

Renji blinked quickly. "I, well, no. I don't, really…" he bit his lip. "If you want, you can call your mom or… she might know," he finished hastily, bowing out of Byakuya's line of vision. "Or we could check out the cafeteria."

She was suddenly ravenous. "Sure!"

Of course she wanted food. Food comforted her. And it was a good thing too, because she had a very high metabolism – okay, fine. All the weight went to her derriere. But there wasn't that much to begin with. She glanced at her father.

"I'm sure you're hungry," he allowed, and she was immediately chasing after Renji down the hall.

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The cafeteria proved to be more than satisfactory. Rukia found plate upon plate of Jell-O, cream filled bread tart things, pancakes… the whole place was stocked with sugar, probably because most of its customers needed to stay awake. After purchasing a rather large amount of food, Rukia and Renji plunked down on a nearby bench.

"So," she said as he chewed, "are you excited?"

Renji swallowed his food. "…Well, I didn't… expect this coming on or anything like that… But I guess I can make good things out of it, right?" he was looking at his plate.

"Right!" Rukia smiled, but noticed his woebegone face. "What's wrong? I thought you were excited."

He sighed. "I am. But that's not it, Rukia. When we left, she told me she needed to apologize to someone… a man."

She felt her head go a little void. Akamori had had many boyfriends in the past, but nothing had really come of any of them. And irresponsible as she could be… it didn't seem like she had done anything dangerous. "Well… you can always ask her."

His head shot up. "What?"

"She's upstairs, right? Well. We can go." She gestured toward the exit.

Renji looked at his plate, at her, and then at the exit, then yanked her out the door. "Let's go then!"

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After storming the office to ask where Akamori was staying, Renji dragged Rukia all around the hospital looking for the fifth floor before remembering that it was upstairs and thus the elevator was a key point here.

She asked him another question in the elevator. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

His brown eyes seemed surprised. "I… really don't." It came out like a question.

"What are you hoping for?" she didn't mind what Renji wanted, just as long as he didn't freak out and somehow lead her to a painful death-by-elevator.

Again he was thoughtful, looking at the patterns in the carpet. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter."

"H…hm." She was at a loss for words.

Rukia sighed as the elevator door slid open and the redhead pushed past her immediately, racing out into the hallway. "Where, where where?!" he kept muttering.

"415," Rukia reminded, pointing to the door right in front of his stressed face. Renji heaved another sigh and reached out for the door handle, hesitating for a moment, and then opened it quietly.

A face nearly identical to Rukia's greeted him, but Hisana was smiling. "Hello, my name is Hisana Kuchiki. I'm pleased to meet you." She lowered her little body into a bow.

He swallowed audibly. "Renji Abarai… I…"

Hisana seemed contented. "You can sit down. Or if you want…" she moved the door aside the rest of the way to reveal Akamori, her face slashed and dark with abrasions. But her entire visage lit up when she saw him.

"Renji!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

He stood silently for a moment before cracking a bright smile. "Akamori," he said exhaustedly. Rukia found herself fuzzy inside for some odd reason – okay. She was obviously happy. As Renji walked slowly toward his lover she turned her attention on her mother, talking in a low tone.

"Mother."

"Rukia," she smiled brightly, her pearl-like teeth bright. "You're an aunt!"

The petite girl breathed a sigh of relief and happiness. "Oh, really!?" she found her voice squeaky, even though she had known she'd be an aunt anyway. "That's…"

"Sort of odd, hm?" her mother patted her hand.

Rukia smiled as she watched her mother stride over to small crib and lift a small bundle of blankets from it. Rukia craned her neck to see, but it was difficult… somehow she felt like a little girl trying to see the baby animals at the fair.

"Renji," Hisana said with a wide grin becoming of her face, "someone wants to meet you." She handed the blankets to a shaky Renji. Rukia couldn't take it anymore. She bounced out of her seat and across the room next to Renji, who was staring at the baby with wide eyes.

She was much smaller than most babies, with a patch of reddish hair at the crown of a peach-colored forehead. Her nose and mouth were petite, features of Hisana and Rukia. But the most intriguing thing were her eyes—not the deep blue of Rukia or Hisana, or the brown of her parents. Somehow they were the soft gray of Byakuya's. Her face was somewhat strange – the tan shade of Renji's face mixed with Akamori's chin and cheeks gave off a somewhat compelling combination.

Akamori spoke in a soft tone. "Well, you can't get much more cliché, can you?" she remarked, laying back onto her pillow.

Rukia felt herself giggle, but raised an eyebrow. "What are you naming her?"

Akamori sighed softly, her eyes still closed, and thought a long moment. "I've always liked Chihiro for a girl."

"Chihiro? What about a middle name?" Rukia pushed.

"…Suzumei?" Renji offered, still intent on the child.

"Where did that come from?" Akamori asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"From… I don't know. I think it means sparrow or something." He shrugged, and his eyes were suddenly warm.

Rukia had almost forgotten Hisana was there. "It's a lovely name," she allowed with another bright grin. "Chihiro Suzumei. Well, I'll just leave you two—three— on your own now…" she turned to Rukia. "It's time we left."

She was finding it difficult to contain herself. Not only had she automatically begun to adore the baby, but missed Akamori. The two mixed together were hard to bear, but she nodded. "Right."

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Renji watched the door close behind mother and daughter and felt himself smile a little. At least Akamori's mom liked him. He hadn't been expecting that at all –earlier, he'd pictured Hisana just like her husband.

"Renji," Akamori sighed, sounding deeply exhausted. "You okay?"

"I'm good," he allowed, sitting down in the chair next to her. "What about you?" he passed to her Chihiro, who had fallen asleep in his arms.

She surveyed the child for a moment before sighing with a smile, "I'm okay. She looks like you."

"You think so?" he was surprised by that. If anything… and he hated to admit it… she looked a little like Byakuya. Akamori nodded soundly and he mirrored her. "…And, who were you wanting to apologize to?"

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

Despite her injured face, he kept his tone steady. "You were telling me … to tell him you were sorry." Thoughts of the previous night seemed to cut at him as he remembered trying to shake her awake while he waited for the ambulance, or the way things had looked around their bedroom.

To Renji's intense shock, she smiled. "Ah. I meant… well, I was talking about my dad."

He felt odd fluctuations of relief eating away the jealousy he had felt against a supposed other man. "…Yeah?"

"Yep." She raised a brow. "Wait, who did you think I meant?"

He shrugged affably. "It's nothing."

"That's okay." That was the good thing about Akamori. She didn't hover over one thing or another. The dark haired woman glanced down at her sleeping child, the dark circles under her eyes justified by the amount of hard work it must have taken. "…But even though she's not sick, I'm sort of worried … any baby that's two months premature shouldn't do nearly this well."

The red haired man suddenly remembered his daughter's violent birth. "…Well, you shouldn't be so depressed about it. She's okay, right?" he said to cease her worries.

"But who broke in?"

Renji swallowed. "You were the one there, not me… do you remember?"

"Because I was paying so much attention," she said with a winsome smile. There was a sudden soft sound from the baby, and they both looked. But she had just sighed in her sleep. "She's so sweet," Akamori continued. "You know… I'm pretty sure she loves you already."

The corner of his mouth curled. "You think?" the baby he'd had nightmares about for the past seven months had turned out to be both striking and wonderfully silent.

"Renji…" she said in a very low voice. "You know what I've been thinking about?" the last word faded off into a whisper.

"What?" Yes, he did need a job… and if that was what she meant he'd call her on it.

Her eyelids lowered. "I'll let you guess."

"Oh, come on." Renji bridged the gap between their faces to look her right in the eyes. "You always do that to me. Sometimes I wonder about you."

"How so?" she asked in a murmur.

"No idea." He had just said it for the sake of the moment. "Now, what is it?"

She usually liked to keep him on tenterhooks, but apparently things were different today. Akamori pulled away slightly to refocus on Chihiro, who was still sound asleep. "In the future, I, well, want more," she said mistily, smiling out of the corner of her mouth.

"More what?" despite his intelligence, Renji could be a little dense sometimes.

"More kids," she said, shrugging.

Renji felt his body get slightly eager at the thought of having more kids with her, but somehow a shred of good sense voiced itself. "Akamori, I think it's too—"

"Early?" she said, taking the words right out of his mouth. "That's what I was thinking… so…" she relaxed her facial features and placed her hand under Chihiro's head, so she could sit up without waking the infant. "I'll wait a while."

Renji nodded. He knew automatically that they'd be strapped for cash just by supporting one child. Two would put them in weighty debt. "All right," he said, "when are they letting you out of here?"

She considered it for a moment. "Any time."

"Really." He figured she'd be in for at least another day or two.

"Yep." Akamori grinned.

At that moment, there was a soft knock on the door. It startled them, but Akamori spoke.

"Come in."

Renji, who had been expecting Rukia or at least Hisana, was shocked beyond belief to see Byakuya, closing the door with minimal noise. He felt his throat lock up but also a cool, light hand on his own. Akamori winked out of the corner of her eye, and he sighed.

"Hello, Akamori," Byakuya said formally, but Renji could see the hidden alarm in his cool gray eyes at her appearance, the anger as well. "Are you well?"

"Y…" surprisingly, she was ruffled by the question. Her eyebrows shook a bit. "…Yes."

"I… hello, Mr. Kuchiki," the redhead said, tilting his head down a bit in a bow, kind of like the one Hisana had given him earlier. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Byakuya's dark eyebrows were calmer than usual. He turned back to his older child. "Akamori, I know I have come off as less than benign. As I stood downstairs, there was much time to think about the things I said to you." He exhaled slowly.

When you climb down that lattice, you can forget about ever seeing it again. And if you do come back, I will kill you. They remembered his tone, clear as day. It was no less hurtful in memory but somehow it invigorated.

"Your mother has told me before. It is immature of me, a man in his early fifties, to be so inconsiderate when it was my decision to have children, and I have to see to it that they do well. Renji?"

Having been addressed so quickly, Renji jumped. "Sir?"

Kuchiki continued, "if you wish, please return to work at the firm."

Renji felt ruptures of elation. He'd work again – high in the firm. With a glance at Akamori he realized something. "I'd like that very much," he said.

At that moment, Hisana poked her small head in. "Oh! Hello, dear," she said sweetly, smiling. "I forgot my –"

Her husband held out the purse. "Handbag."

Hisana puckered her lips, apparently having left her things behind for an excuse to burst in. "Well, I'll be waiting in the car."

"No, I'm leaving now." Byakuya glanced at the two one more time before stepping over the threshold. "Good luck to you."

Hisana smiled before closing the door.

Akamori's face was the epitome of shock. "Well, that can't have been real," she stammered, but he could tell she was pleased.

"Why do you think he was being so nice?" Renji asked.

"Well, one thing is… my dad knows a lot. My mom was only sixteen when they met… so I guess it's important to him for us to work out." She shrugged.

"You do know what this means, right Akamori?" he said, voicing the realization he'd had during the conversation with her father.

Akamori was smiling at Chihiro. "What?"

"Now you can have as many kids as you want."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wow, I finally cranked out a (semi) long one for you guys! I loved writing the IchiRuki parts in this… as well as the HitsuSen, RenMori and a tiny sprig of ByaHisa. But I bet you liked it because I wasn't lagging on length/detail like I have for a while, hmm? Anyhow, it'd be great if you could give me ideas. I'm online most of the time so I could give you my thoughts on your idea posthaste – and I'm very open minded. Thanks so much for reading this, because I'm pretty proud of it. I was in a bitchy mood when I started to write it, so if the mood's off a bit at some points… you understand. Hey, I'm a writer. I've got to be colorful.

Love xSilverWingsx

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	17. Author's Note

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I am _so_ jammed right now, totally devoid of ideas! But hey, I'm just checking in with you guys. The next chap might take another two to three weeks for me to complete because my word processors decided they'd play a little game called "Let's Delete Claire's Chapter!" just to piss me off. This chappie is just kind of a mixed up thing of mine, but I hope you aren't totally pissed by the lack of chapter - I know I am, because MS Word is a cruel mistress.

But let me take this opportunity to thank you all for the reviews so far! Honestly! When I open my Gmail and see that bold heading, I smile. A lot. For the reviewers:

seccaberry: I wrote the story because of an idea we had! Without you this never would've come into being. Especially all the funny parts - Toshiro deserves an Emmy for all the epic lines he has recited, most of them from you :D and I love your enthusiasm on Akamori. Back when she was just an idea in my head, you were all like, "OOOH!" and you've always been that way! Thankies so much! -gives giant cake-

**calipalace:** You're awesome! Your reviews are always positive, even when I'm in a shitty mood. Plus you pick up on the subtlest things of IchiRuki that seccaberry doesn't even notice. By the way. Your Yachiru icon always gives me a big Cheshire cat grin! Thank you! -gives giant cookie-

**Hail the Wolves**: You rock as well. I like how you state what you liked and what you would like to see! You're a big help. :D Thanks! -gives cookie shaped like Rukia-

**Bloodypassion:** Yes, Rukia is going to have to go through a lot of flack by sharing a dorm with Ichigo :) but who are we kidding. We're all going to love that. Thanks! -gives iced mocha-

**IchigoRukiaforever:** Your reviews are short, but they have a lot of meaning, dude! (or girl) Thanks! -gives smoothie-

**BLEACHKILLSNARUTO: **Why yes, it does kill Naruto. And your all caps writing rules!!! It shows lotsa emotion. Thanks much! -gives cake-

**ObliviousWarrior89:** Your reviews always make me laugh, man! And so does your lemon story, Surprisingly Demanding. It was hot! Thanks. -gives ice cream-

**Kusanagi no Tsurugi**: Ah, you're so descriptive of everything you like! I love that in a reviewer! Thanks so much for that. I'm trying to go as fast as I can... -sweatdrop- Thanks! -gives Popsicle-

**Miichiya Mikan**: Wow, your reviews are stellar! Thanks for all the detail on them! I can tell you're a sucker for comedy, and I'll keep that in mind! Arigato! -gives muffin-

**Automailjunkie44**: Mhm, you rule as well! Thanks for the inspiration, you IchiRuki fan you! ;) -gives cupcake-

**Kinkajou**: It would've been fun to put Shiro with Nemu-chan, but I have other plans for Nemu... seeing as she's one of my faves! Thanks and keep reading/reviewing! -gives milkshake-

**darkchocol8807:** Yeah, ByaHisa is definitely my second OTP :D did you see the ByaHisa scenes in the newest Bleach movie? you're awesome, keep reading! -gives pie-

**DanceOfTheWhiteMoon**: Ah, I don't plan on there being a Jacob... XD keep it up, thanks! -gives marshmallows-

**MillieEllie**: Gosh, you're phenomenal! Thanks for all the lovely reviews, Millie. Can I call you that? -gives cookie-

**YondaimeNamikaze**: Wow, I love your enthusiasm toward RenMori. Most people don't like those kinds of pairings, but you're awesome! -gives cake-

**Cherryblossom snow**: I love the kawaii way you write their names! And you rock, ahem, by the way. -gives popsicle-

**Koko Roko: **Whoa, you're great! Another person who talks about their favorite things, I habit I love! :D -gives cookie shaped like Byakuya-

**shuusuke**: Thanks so much for going through and reviewing each chapter! Not many people do that! For that, you get ... three cookies! -hands cookies shaped like Hisana, Renji and Toshiro respectively-

**want to be a vampire: **I love your PenName. I'd like to be a vamp too, but after a while I'd get bored. Thanks for reviewing! -gives cookie shaped like Senna-

**RukiaHailee:** Your reviews are short but sweet. :D Thanks! -gives pie-

**emo1girl**: yes, if I were Rukia I'd just leave my undies :) -gives... Twilight DVD-

**Tituba3:** Your. Review. Ruled! It was long which rocked my socks, plus it was so very detailed. -gives Kon-

**rukiaichigo15chappy:** your PenName is full of my favorite things! thanks for reviewing! -gives an Ulquiorra plushie-

Thank you also to the anonymous reviewers! I'd be returning the favor if you had accounts, but I'll just give you all... gigantic Orihime dolls! Whee! Okay, well, another thing I'd like to say... I really need a Beta. Like, in case I miss things. Plus, sentence structure isn't my strong point. If anyone's interested, just drop me a message at my profile... and I'll make sure I get back to you! :D

I just... really want a suggestion, badly. I'm so swamped now, my thought process is out of whack. Thanks for all you've done so far, guys, you rule! If it weren't for the reviews, I'd take it down... also, I noticed... I have 38 alerts for She's Like the Moon. So I should be at least getting 20 per chap... I mean, it won't kill you to say you like my story and leave. Because I could click on my story 1000 times, hits don't mean anything. Just please review if you liked it, because hey. I might write better next time.

Thanks for reading the catch up chapter... and if you ever want to see what I'm up to, visit my profile. I have a little blog on there for randomness' sake...

Happy trails! :D

-Claire Lucairne

* * *


	18. Wants and Needs

**Thanks so much to you guys for reading my author's note and being so nice to me in my time of need! (Whoa. I am not that third-world, but you get the picture.) Anyway, this'll be half-ByaHisa and half IchiRuki (but I plan on it being mostly IchiRuki :D), so you people should be happy! And the chapter is insanely long... consider it my present to you! Merry Christmas!  
**

* * *

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx** fanfic

_Oily marks appear on walls where pleasure moments hung before the takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this... still life._

-Imogen Heap

* * *

Hisana's Point of View  
April 1990

* * *

_  
It's finally my big break. I'm going with Mr. Kuchiki to Saitama! _I thought as I pored over the memo, my eyes alight. Up until then, I hadn't done anything but sit at the desk and check email... but now I could go see the sights! I smiled. I had never been out of Karakura town since I was six, but that had only been Tokyo. Everyone had been there.

Mr. Kuchiki opened the door and walked in quietly as he always did. I smiled at him, but he gave me a nod. That was good enough, just as long as I got to leave Karakura Town.

Maybe I would watch the gulls fly off into the sunset...

"Hisana," he said.

"Yes, sir?" I was armed with pen and paper. Nothing was going unwritten.

"You may take the day off and pack your things."

Somehow that seemed a little alien. I loved working here so much, and a day off... well, to me it was annoying to leave work. I made a lot of money and I had also made friends with the other secretaries. But if I didn't pack tonight, I would probably forget something. "Yes, sir."

Mr. Kuchiki got back to that paper he was writing. I tried to see it but the blurry mess of letters reminded me I was nearsighted, so I gave up. I logged onto the computer, but he had utilized an auto-reply system for the trip, so no one had left anything.

I looked around again for something to do, but... it seemed like I'd already done everything. My teeth came down on my lips. If I weren't so eager to do everything I'd probably be able to spend more time around here,the voice in my head reminded. I let out a sigh.

"Is there something upsetting you?" Mr. Kuchiki asked in a low voice, looking up again from that seemingly important paper.

I shook my head furiously.

"N-no, no! I'm just fine." I smiled to show him so, but it came out more like a grimace. He looked down again, but this time his expression had changed to that of... it was just as if he were confused and slightly upset at the same time, which was again odd. "So, um..."

"So?"

"So, like... what do you have to do in Saitama?" I asked, failing miserably at conversation.

"I have a meeting with the firm's representatives," he said, face reposing back to the emotionless stare. I nodded again, more vigorously this time, and tapped my fingers on the keys. He noticed but didn't seem slightly perturbed. "If you like, you may stay in the office until later..."

I jumped up out of my seat, startling him a little. "Okay! You can count on me." As soon as the words came out, I cursed myself. Damn! I always acted so peppy all the time when there was work to be done.

Mr. Kuchiki gave a very soft nod and looked at his computer. "Considering I don't have anything else to do today..." he turned back to me, then down to his paper. I was on tenterhooks. What was he going to say? Were we going to visit Mr. Kurosaki? That would sure be fun. "Have you eaten?"

I didn't feel hungry, but I couldn't remember my last meal. When you ate as little as I did then, the hunger stops after a while. "I haven't today, sir, no." The air was thick with confusion. Usually when he wanted me to go and eat, he told me, and I went alone. I knew he was nice... somewhere. And that he worried about me, too. But this man, Mr. Kuchiki, was not the type to take people out to eat. He just wasn't built that way... or so it seemed at the time.

"I'm obliged to take you to lunch," he said quietly, standing with his lithe dancer's grace. I was already standing, so I sort of stood awkwardly there for a few moments before snatching my coat up off my chair and slipping it on. The leathery coat was too big for me, but it was fleece on the inside. I followed him down the stairs, since according to him, elevators were just a showcase for laziness. I had agreed, but I liked elevators. They were easier.

For some odd reason, he didn't call his car to come and get us. Not that I minded, because I usually looked out-of-place next to him. I followed Mr. Kuchiki down the road to a simple coffee shop I wouldn't expect him to even look at, let alone enter.

I paid for my own coffee, but he didn't order anything. I stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, sipping it, before he spoke.

"If you do not sit, you'll spill that."

I swallowed and the coffee scalded my throat. With one quick movement I scurried to the nearest table and plopped down in the chair, looking at the buttons on my coat. They were shaped like tiny flowers, and I was missing one...

He slid into the chair next to me and rested his hands in his lap. I realized that a man was more courteous than me, but that didn't make me pick my elbows up off the table. I sat my coffee down. "So," I said. "What's going on?" T

his wasn't anything strange or alarming. I was just wondering about the sudden lunch.

Mr. Kuchiki closed his eyes and opened them again. "Some things have been worrying me, Hisana."

In contrast to the rest of his face, the heather-gray eyes were distraught. His hands were, to my intense surprise, a bit fidgety.

I exhaled, trying not to look too confused. "I see."

"These things are very difficult for me... to say to you. I haven't the slightest clue why they've happened in the beginning. It honestly irritates me, because I can't figure out why." His voice was so soft, I could barely hear it at all. But what I did hear scared me. His voice was breaking. I was freaking out.

Was I going to get fired? Was Mr. Kuchiki getting sick? I swallowed at least three times. Four, maybe. I wasn't counting. There wasn't enough saliva to swallow my conscience.

"What is it, sir? I-I've been working as hard as I can, because even though I don't qualify at all, I am smart and I try to --"

"Hisana." At this point, I started to notice the dark, bruise-colored shadows underneath his eyes. "That is not the problem. You have a better work ethic than any of my past secretaries, make no mistake..." he closed his eyes again, but held them longer. "I need to tell you soon, or I think I may do something I'll regret."

"Yes, sir, well, please! I'm confused, please, put it another way." This was baffling me. Aw, crap. I hated it when this happened. "Mr... Kuchiki," I added.

A shadow crossed his face. "If you truly want to know, I should tell you. In a few short words... you are intriguing to me on a powerful level."

I blinked. "I don't understand." The words were neither short or easy to understand, at least not for me. I had never been able to pay attention in school... one word caught my attention. Intriguing. Well, of course I would intrigue Mr. Kuchiki; a poor girl with very little experience in any field would most likely be interesting to anyone. "Please, just word that some other way."

The pale man's aristocratic face wasn't calm; he was still a bit perturbed. "Hisana, it doesn't help me to bottle things away. There are many ways in which this is correlated to you, most of them in fact. Physical affection and emotional affection are two different --"

It hit me then.

"M-M-Mr... Kuchiki..."

He was quiet as my coffee shook in my hands. There was just no way. I was a girl who worked at the office. Just a kid.I had just stopped losing my baby teeth two years ago! I felt my fingers go numb. I wasn't ready for anything like that...

I could not be... I wasn't... he had to have been... it had to have been another one of those rare jokes he would tell.

Mr. Kuchiki's face was not in any way a joke. "...Hisana."

The steaming coffee fell off the table, I was shaking so badly. It spilled on my shoes, and I felt the hot liquid on my toes. It burned. "Mr. Kuchiki," I said again, but nothing else would escape me. The shock was so glaring and strong, no thoughts were going on in my head. He was the most silent, quiet, refined man. How had he confessed something like that to a teenager? The reason was impossible for me.

His tone was gentle, but sad.

"I've frightened you."

"N-no, of course not, Mr. Kuchiki sir! I-I'm just kind of clumsy. Uhm... well, I-I just--"

"You _are_ frightened," he sighed as I mopped up the coffee and tried not to cry in confusion. I didn't know what I should say. That I was flattered... or not? Was I? Mr. Kuchiki was certainly a ... beautiful man, if anything. The icy planes of his cheeks and his soft heather-gray eyes took my breath from me, but I couldn't ever say that. He was probably married. I felt a sick swooping feeling in the pit of my belly. If Mr. Kuchiki was married... no, no.

"Are you married?" I blurted.

He certainly seemed surprised, irises expanding. "No, I am not." The rest of his face seemed the same.

"Oh." Well, at least he wasn't married. But why had I suspected he was? Moreover, why had I cared at all? I stood up. "W-well, sir, I'll see you at the office tomorrow...and, and I'll bring t-t-ea!"

Mr. Kuchiki stared at me, long and hard.

"Goodbye for now, Hisana."

I gasped inside. I felt odd. I felt_ hot_. Flames licked my entire body. To make matters worse, I felt a powerful yearning... for something. I couldn't tell what... and it scared me that I didn't know. "B-bye... sir."

* * *

Rukia watched as her father's car disappeared into the shroud of this late winter evening, her mother's hand waving rapid goodbyes. The raven haired girl smiled in their direction and turned around, ready for bed. It was Friday after all, and she had a lot of relaxing to do. Her eyelids, come to think of it, were a bit droopy. Rukia exhaled slowly and climbed the steps back to the main gate.

I'm finally back here, she thought, even though I haven't even been gone that long. Maybe I was just bored. Being forced to wait in the hallway like a small child had struck chords with her. She had been a little mad at her sister for not letting her stay. But there was nothing she could do about it now.

The elfin girl grasped the cool metal handle of the front door, but somehow felt eyes on her. She exhaled cautiously, trying not to appear scared. There wasn't anyone... she could see, but Rukia knew when she was being followed. The back of her neck prickled like a heartbeat, but it was colder than that._ Be quiet_, her father's voice chastised in her mind._ Look forward and stand tall. If you're confident, odds are you won't be an easy target._ She had hated having the 'safety' conversation with him, but now it was coming in handy.

At last she met the face of the man watching her, under the tree near the lab building. He was tall and thin with bright silver hair... and a face reminiscent of a fox, complete with grinning mouth and wide eyes that seemed to glint despite the fact that they were closed.

She swallowed, feeling the saliva slither down her throat. It was as cold as his eyes. She looked at the ground, but then, remembering Byakuya's advice, looked up again and away from this man. He made her blood run cold and she needed to go upstairs.

There her Chinese homework waited... and so did Ichigo, who was probably eating food he would not share with her. With that in mind Rukia smiled a little and pushed the door open, leaving the mysterious man in her wake.

The main lobby area was milling with those who had tried out for sports, but Rukia didn't spot her cousin among them, so she continued to fast walk through the room. She knew he wasn't following her—how would that look?—but just wanted to get as far away as possible. She didn't look anywhere other than forward as she climbed the stairs to the elevator shaft, and punched the button with all her strength. It seemed like a thousand years before she reached her door and pounded on it at least seven times, once with her foot.

At last it opened to reveal Ichigo, his hair falling around his face, dripping with water. "Rukia?" he asked, blinking.

"Yes, it's me!" she panted. "Let me in!" Rukia didn't want to give him any explanations but felt immensely relieved to be back to the dormitory at last. Inside it was still bare, other than the couch on which rested a steaming bowl of ramen.

Ichigo's frown deepened. "What the hell? You look like you just ran a marathon." In fact, she could pass for having run two. Rukia was hardly ever disturbed by anything, but she seemed terrified and her round mass of thick black hair was disheveled and curling off in other directions.

He must have taken a bath, Rukia surmised from his wet hair and reddish feet. Droplets of water had swiveled down into his shirt, making it cling to the hard body like a second skin. She huffed at him. "C-could you at least have the courtesy to let me in my dorm!?"

Ichigo didn't move a muscle. "Could you at least have the courtesy to tell me why you look like Medusa?" he asked with an expectant look plastered over the angry one. "What were you even... _doing_, midget?"

"I was getting ready to... trying to find Toshiro!" she explained hastily, nodding a little too fast. "Yes. He tried out for soccer."

Ichigo crossed his arms. "And you check up on Hitsugaya since when?" he asked, finishing up the question by leaning against the door frame, striking a strangely forceful figure. Rukia gave him a black look. "Ah, c'mon Rukia. You don't think I'm that stupid? Tell me what the hell you've been doing, please!"

Please. Ichigo had told her please. Rukia blinked wildly for a few seconds at his tone, which seemed stressed. She glared at him through a curtain of onyx hair. "Fine. I was trying to get up here so fast because I wanted to hurry and do my homework. Is that good enough for you?" she queried, scowling still as he straightened up to full height.

Ichigo's tone dripped with venom. "Okay, Rukia. Don't tell me." He shrugged and stalked back into the dormitory, clearly angry. Rukia kneed the door closed and took off the small fleece jacket that had once belonged to Hisana, hanging it on a beech wood coat rack. She stood there awkwardly for a few moments before he spoke to her again. "Your food's on your bed."

She gave one quick nod and trudged across the carpet as Ichigo began to eat his noodles again, and closed the bedroom door. The room was the same as when she'd left it before, complete with the liberated stuffed animals, and it was invigorating to plop down on her Murphy Bed and grab the spoon. Despite the fact that she'd pigged out with Renji earlier she could still eat a lot more than that. Akamori called her 'the bottomless pit.' Upon looking around the room again, she spotted an open book on Ichigo's bed. Sadly she was near-sighted, so Rukia had to squint to even make out the fact that there was text. She frowned a bit and walked over, craning her body so as to read:

_  
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,_

_The precedent of pith and livelihood,_

_And, trembling in her passion, calls it balm,_

_Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good._

_Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force_

_Courageously to pluck him from his horse._

_Venus and Adonis_

-William Shakespeare

Her eyes contorted a bit in confusion. Ichigo read poetry? That was impossible. She flipped through the book, and to her shock all of the passages were similar to the one he'd been reading. She felt slightly insensitive while reading the angelic words of the pages, and wondered if Ichigo liked them too. Well, he would have to. She checked the front of the book, and it was emblazoned with the school library's insignia. With their packed schedules, how had he had time?

After scarfing down the noodles Rukia felt her belly swell in happiness. It was probably glad to have had some real food since her flu. Under her glee there was confusion, since the book of poetry - placed back on his bed - was on her mind, as well as the possibility that Ichigo might be a little deeper than she thought. Rukia shook her head at that. No way. He was obnoxious and so very immature.

She picked up her bowl and walked out to the kitchen, nearly slamming her head on the built-in counter, placing it in the sink. She had never loaded a dishwasher before, and figured Ichigo knew how. And maybe she was high maintenance. Oh well. He'd just have to deal with it, now wouldn't he?

"Rukia," he said suddenly, jarring her to the point of a jump. "You're dirty as crap. Go shower."

She gave him a disgusted look. "Excuse me?"

Ichigo's expression was serious. "Go bathe. You've got to stink," he said, as if go bathe hadn't been enough. Rukia ignored the urge to sniff her armpits and trumped back into the bedroom, ignoring his eyes on her back as she did so. The raven haired girl rifled through her bags for a her PJs: Chappy themed, with matching slippers. The familiar outfit made her felt a bit more at home here. Rukia grabbed a towel from the pile near the door and went into the bathroom directly next door.

The room was little but he had left it immaculate, a luxury she wasn't used to at home. She had her own bathroom, but had shared with her sister because it was more convenient than dirtying two rooms. Unlike Akamori, however, Ichigo was more organized.

She saw her rabbit-topped toothbrush and his plain red one in a small cup next to the sink and a conservative tube of toothpaste, happy he'd already done that for her. Then there was more time to relax.

She pulled open the shower curtain and observed the knob. Hot to the left and cold to the right. Well, that was simple enough. Her shampoo and conditioner from home were already sitting on one of two shelves in the shower, the other of which held a bar of soap and a mens' shampoo. Well, they never cared about conditioning - and she wouldn't either, it was just that her hair would be a puffy, dry mess if she didn't.

Rukia pulled off her clothes and threw them down next to the toilet. They wouldn't be there forever, so what did it matter?

A draft from outside soon made its presence known, so she flipped it on. The water was hot instantly, and she gratefully stood under it. A sigh escaped her lips. It was so relaxing. After being dragged around by Renji all day long her limbs had tightened up. This helped a lot.

Finally she realized the hot water heater wasn't infinite, and squeezed liberal amounts of her own shampoo into her hand. After frothing her hair she washed the rest of the way, not hesitating to turn the heat up every now and then.

Her feet were itchy and hot when she got out, the mirrors clouded. She blushed. _Maybe I shouldn't relax quite so much next time._ After drying Rukia pulled on her PJs and scrambled to grab all her clothes, which just kept slipping away. Eventually she opened the door, freeing a wave of steam into the living room.

"God, I thought you'd died in there." Ichigo was still focused on the television, watching some kind of documentary.

"Still kicking," she assured him tritely, smiling and swinging her damp towel over her shoulder. "Where should I put my clothes?"

This appeared to take Ichigo off guard, but he bounced back quickly. "In the basket near the door... yeah." His eyes were somewhat dark, but Rukia figured he was just a little confused by something on the television. She dumped her clothes uncerimoniously into the basket and stood quietly near it for a moment.

"You can use the TV," Ichigo said emotionlessly.

"No, thank you." Rukia stared at the clock. "You can use it..."

She wondered why they weren't bickering about one thing or another, or being downright mean to each other. For some reason the feeling was relaxing, but a bit foreign. Ichigo took her by surprise by speaking up again.

"What do you wanna do tommorow?" he was turned in her direction opposite the blank television, and the tiny girl stammered a little in response.

"A- What? Aren't you supposed to be studying?" she had mostly said this because she was sleepy, and because Rukia had never anticipated going anywhere with Ichigo, save his birthday when he'd kidnapped her.

"I'm bored," he said simply, still waiting for an answer. Ichigo had always detested weekends because there was too much time to think. He tried to stay distracted for the majority of his life, but sometimes it didn't quite work out.

"Well, can't you take Toshiro?" the name was the only one she could come up with. After a few seconds she remembered that Toshiro and Ichigo weren't exactly best buds. "Or Orihime?"

Ichigo's eyes were blank.

"What kind of conversation would I have? Toshiro has a stick up his ass, and Orihime spends all her time blushing and freaking out."

That was true. Whenever Ichigo was around, Orihime's little amount of equilibrium always dissolved and she became a bumbling, pink-cheeked girl who tripped over air. Rukia had known about her forte for Ichigo since they'd met him, but it had never really bothered her. Ichigo didn't think of Orihime as anything other than a nice person, he'd told her.

Either way, he wouldn't have a very fun afternoon with his fellow redhead.

"You could take... well..." Rukia knit her brows, trying to come up with someone good, but a different idea appealed to her. "We could all go, you know - like, the both of us, Orihime and Toshiro... and if they wanted to bring someone..."

She also wondered who Toshiro would be bringing to the Winter Dance next week, on the first of December.

The strawberry across from her was thoughtful. "Y'know," he said after about twenty seconds of different variations of frowns, "that might not be that bad, now that I think about..." he trailed off, looking slightly put-off for a second. "How are we all getting to wherever it is we're going?"

"Huh," she sighed contemplatively, "I guess you can take Toshiro in the car, and I'll take the subway with Orihime and whoever she's with!" Rukia couldn't believe her good planning skills, but apparently Ichigo was less than taken by them.

"I am not riding with Hitsugaya," he protested.

"Well, then what do you propose?" Rukia said expectantly. She disliked Toshiro's stoic attitude and insensitive jibes as well, but he was family. As they said, you couldn't pick family.

Ichigo was slightly taken aback by the question, and he swallowed. "Well, I guess I was -"

Rukia cut across him. "Just deal with him for an hour. He isn't that bad."

After a few more moments of that odd startled face, Ichigo looked confused. "Which Hitsugaya are you talking about?"

Rukia deadpanned. "Ichigo!" she snapped, glaring at him. "Why are you being so inconsiderate?!"

"I am not!" he denied loudly. "Your cousin is a shit head!"

"Obviously!" she agreed sharply, "just don't tell him that!" _Ah, so we are bickering. I was starting to get a little spooked._

Ichigo smirked. "And why shouldn't I?"

Rukia felt her facial features repose a bit, scowl of a mouth slackening into a soft shape. "Well, he's... believe it or not, Toshiro can get awfully sensitive sometimes."

The spritely young woman strode past Ichigo to settle down on the couch, folding her pajama-covered legs under her.

Ichigo seemed to slowly grow more intrigued with each passing second. "What do you mean?" he asked, sounding a little less heated than before.

"I mean..." Rukia was racking her brain for the right words. Toshiro was an enigma to her and what she assumed was half the population, so summarizing him in words would be difficult to say the least. "Toshiro's had a hard life, you know. Rich people, well... we have a hell of a lot of problems of our own."

He didn't seem unconvinced, but not agreeable either. "Go on," he pushed. "I'm listening."

"It's all perspective. In Toshiro's eyes, everyone's out to get him. He doesn't trust anyone, and living like that for so long has made him hard as nails. In my eyes... well, it's not as hard... no one's really done anything to me. And that's one way of putting it... I mean, nothing happens to me."

By the time she was finished, Rukia felt odd having spilt her emotions so tastelessly. Even if it were Ichigo, a friend of hers, it wasn't like Hisana had been the one listening. Hisana knew everything that Rukia did, everywhere she went... because unlike most fifteen-year-old girls, Rukia didn't have a secret life of any kind.

Ichigo's expression, to her surprise, was placid for the second time since they'd come to this school. "Well, I know perspective too, munchkin. From here, you just look like some short smart ass who thinks she's better than everyone else..."

Rukia donned a poker face directly correlated with her mood. "I never said that."

"I can tell you think it," he informed her. "Either that or I'm imagining things." He looked down into the bowl of ramen, eyes suddenly hazy and a bit upset. She wondered if there was anything bothering him on the inside. But this was Ichigo, and making him feel good was key.

"I think all that Shakespeare is going to your head," Rukia said, inwardly praising herself for discreetly telling him she knew of his hobby. And, just as expected, Ichigo's head shot up.

"How the hell did you know that?" he asked, cheeks growing feverish. Well, it didn't make him happy. But at least he's not being all depressed, right? When Ichigo got upset, Rukia went down the toilet as well. It was as if they had the same emotional calendar.

"You should pay more attention to the things you leave open on your bed." She shrugged and flipped on the television, looking at his devastated face through the corners of her eyes. "You should finish your food before it gets cold, Ichigo."

Ichigo swallowed loudly and picked up his chopsticks, fingers shakier than before. "Whatever," he said.

* * *

Rukia's eyes shot open with alarming speed. The first thing she saw was the blue light of dawn, reflected on the ceiling's plaster. After a moment she remembered today's trip with Ichigo, Toshiro and Orihime to the movies. At this point she wondered if Ichigo would change his mind, but that wasn't like him.

Said Strawberry slept motionlessly a few feet away, covers obscuring half his face. The part of it Rukia could see, however, was peaceful.

She grew conscious of the hulking mass that was her hair and threw the covers off. After brushing her teeth vigorously, Rukia scrubbed her face, at which point Ichigo entered. She didn't pay much attention to him as they talked.

"Hey," he greeted.

Rukia turned around, and her saliva went down the wrong tube. Ichigo was shirtless... but she'd seen him shirtless... before now. So it shouldn't matter. He was just a bit intimidating when half-naked. "How are you?" she asked quietly, towelling her face.

"All right." Ichigo seemed to be waiting to brush his own teeth as Rukia applied liberal amounts of mousse to her wild hair. "Hey, have an idea of a movie you wanna see?"

"I don't," she said simple. She could care less about _the _movie, just as long as they saw _a _movie and all her friends were there.

"Get dressed," Ichigo said in a defiant tone, leaving the room almost as quickly as he'd entered it. She heard the bedroom door close rather loudly.

Rukia blinked after him, a little baffled. He'd never really acted like that in front of her before. Especially not on Saturday. _Maybe he's just in a hurry, _the little voice in her head stated. _You know him! Always rushing. ...Well, not really. Ichigo might be in one of his moods._

Rukia's head voice was hard-headed, and it was odd to hear it own up to its errors. Either way, it was time to get dressed. Rukia pulled on a small white turtleneck and shorts (she wanted to wear them at least once before it got too cold) and slipped on her flip-flops as well. Not knowing what else to do, she settled on the couch to wait for him.

* * *

"You know, I think we're going to get ice cream, you and I. What do you think?" Akamori asked.

Chihiro blew a bubble.

"Well, all right then," she sighed and winked in his direction.

Renji smiled as he watched them through the mirror, straightening the tie he'd always hated to wear. Even if they weren't married, it felt like a family in a lot of ways. Besides, despite her beauty and winsome charm, he could not picture Akamori as his wife. Hell, she wasn't even twenty yet. His mother had chewed him out for getting a teenager pregnant, but he often forgot her age. It didn't matter to him.

"Good luck," Akamori said, a wry smile forming on her pale lips. Then she stammered, "I- love you," and stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

Renji blinked as that sunk in. Nobody had ever really told him that before, save family, and it felt a bit odd. Then again, it described his feelings accurately, so he replied, "...Love you." He reached out for a one-armed hug, which felt a bit awkward, but she returned it.

"Bye."

"Have fun at work!" she said, following him as he neared the front door.

"Yeah, that'll happen..." he said, pursing his lips. "Okay, bye Akamori."

"Later, gator." She waved.

* * *

Rukia leaned back in the shotgun seat she'd raced Toshiro for, letting out an appeased sigh as the fabric molded to her. She had bickered Ichigo into turning on the seat warmers, so now her rump was warm and she was pleased. Orange Range's 'Viva Rock' blared from the radio with amazing quality. She wondered if this day, which had seemed awkward and boring earlier, might turn out to be all right.

Ichigo, oddly enough, was decked out with his 'Nice Vibe' shirt and a pair of aviator's sunglasses. She had to admit, he could look badass when he wanted... so could Toshiro, but today he wore a simple black sweater and loose jeans with a pair of tennis shoes.

Orihime had gone fancy in a bright yellow ruffled dress with white polka dots. Rukia felt blinded when she looked in her direction.

But something else was off: her friend's face. When Rukia looked at Ichigo, his token glare was missing again, substituted by a dispirited expression. Her lips puckered in content as she observed his face in its melancholy state, wondering if she should say anything.

She did. "Ichigo?"

He turned to look at her, eyes as down as the rest of him. "Yeah?"

At that moment, he took his hand off the wheel and the car swerved perilously. Several exclamations arose:

"Ichigo!"

"Did I buckle in?!"

"Oh dear Lord, control the car, you deranged Tropicana!" (This was from Toshiro.)

Ichigo looked away from Rukia and back at the road, but his sad expression had disappeared. "What do you need, Rukia?"

The question was toned with mixed feelings... or at least that's how Rukia took it. What _did _she need? Why had she asked him anything? Ichigo was perfectly capable of keeping his emotions at bay... but now it was too late to dismiss it. "Are you all right?"

It took a few moments, and then he answered in an assuring tone, "...Yeah, dwarf. I'm fine." He clicked on the turn signal, and the green lighting reflected in Rukia's eyes as she pondered things. Of course he had called her a dwarf; he always insulted her when his mind was on complex things.

They pulled into the theater, and Rukia smelled a sharp, smoky aroma.

Toshiro took a drag. "What are we seeing?"

Orihime was quick to respond. "Oh! Oh! We can see a romance, or a comedy! No, no, wait! A _horror_! Yeah, bring it on!" she ended the sentence with a colorful bravado that made Rukia smile. Orihime never changed.

Ichigo looked to Rukia for confirmation, and she nodded. "Okay, we'll see a horror," he allowed, opening his door. "Just as long as it isn't... over the top.

* * *

Rukia was on her way out of the theater with Ichigo and the rest when she felt a slight vibration in her pocket. Frowning, the small Kuchiki pulled out her cell phone.

Call From: _Kuchiki, Hisana. _Rukia felt her heart pound. Had something bad happened to Akamori ...again? Apparently not, because she'd just gotten home yesterday, and it would be impossible for someone to break in again. She clicked Talk.

"Hello?"

"Ah, hi Rukia. I'm glad you picked up," said Hisana placidly, calming Rukia considerably. When Hisana called, she usually just wanted to touch base. "How's your weekend?"

_A little confusing. _"Good, I guess."

"You guess?" Hisana said. "Well, if you guess... sometimes it turns out well. How's Ichigo doing?" her tone shifted from thoughful to whimsical at top speed. Rukia observed Ichigo, who was watching her with a confused expression.

"Fine," she replied cautiously, wondering if she should don the 'Ichigo's A Girl' mask. "Is Father home?"

Ichigo's eyebrows bowed down immediately, but she appraised him with a stern expression and he huffed out an almost silent, "Fine."

"No, he's at work, giving Renji's office back. It turns out, no one could replace him." Her mother was smiling. Rukia could tell easily when she was. "By the way, speaking of Renji, he and Akamori want you and Ichigo to eat dinner with them tonight in celebration."

"Celebration?"

"Of the baby, and the job. I'm telling you, Rukia, their future looks good right now." When Byakuya wasn't around, Hisana spoke and acted like a teenager. "So what do you say? Want to spend a night out with your sister?"

Rukia thought it over. Akamori tended to drink quite a lot when she got the chance, and now that Chihiro had been born, her sobriety would zoom away. However, Renji, despite his equally hot-headed personality, seemed to have a calming effect on her. "Okay, Mother. Tell them I'll go."

"One more thing, Rukia." Hisana had almost cut across Rukia in her haste. "Today, when your father and I were waking up, I felt a kick."

A kick? ...She had forgotten! Hisana was having a baby too. Unlikely as that seemed given Byakuya's age, it was still cute. Rukia had never seen her mother pregnant before, and it might be pretty interesting. "Wow, really? That's great. How strong?"

"She's... very strong for a little girl, really. I had to take Tylenol," Hisana sighed. Rukia was taken aback.

"Really? Tylenol?"

"Yes. Rukia, I've got to go now... tell Ichigo I said hello, all right?"

"I'll tell him." Rukia glanced again at Ichigo, who was sitting on the hood of his car, sunglasses glinting in the light. "Bye." She snapped the phone shut and turned to the redhead. "Hey."

He blinked. "Yeah?"

"What's up with you today?" the words had again spilled out before she wanted them to, that same horrid habit. Rukia couldn't think of a word bad enough to curse herself with. There were a few moments where the only noise was Orihime's muffled voice as she recapped the whole movie to an uninterested Toshiro, who replied with, 'Spectacular.'

"Today..." Ichigo said, his amber eyes moving upward toward the cornflower sky. "I figured today, I could..."

"What?"

He let out a sigh. "Today I just wanted to hang out with you. Not Orihime or Hitsugaya. Just Midget Kuchiki."

Slowly but surely, Rukia's face faded into confusion. "Me?" she knew she was a hinderance to his solitary life, one without wild sisters or rich people, but she'd felt compelled to ask.

"Yeah, you. I don't get why, but you talk a hell of a lot. Some of it makes sense." His shoulders rose and fell.

Rukia was lost in her thoughts. Ichigo... wanted to spend the day with me? Just me? ...maybe he's not so bad. But then again, he's Ichigo. Something's got to give. Maybe Orihime was right, maybe Ichigo does like me... not like that, but as a... a special friend.

* * *

**All righty! It's not quite Christmas, but I'll put this up for you guys anyway, mostly because I need to clean out my document manager. There was a little bit of everyone here, except for Senna, but she'll be back soon. I won't get this updated again until at least the second, so Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!**

**-Love Claire**


	19. Inamorata

**  


* * *

**

My reviewers... you're like angels! Thanks very much for last chapter's reviews, I really appreciate that. In any case... ByaHis continues this chapter, but there will be HitsuSen and IchiRuki, who are with AkaRen. So, ya get everything. And, I've been ecstatic about how life has been going lately... so, all is good... Enjoy! :D

**I don't own Bleach. However, there is a lot of it in my hair, which is making me look like Matsumoto instead of my usual Momo. Grr.**

* * *

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx** fanfic

_The angry boy, a bit too insane, icing over a secret pain. You know you don't belong.  
And everyone I know has got a reason to say, 'Could you put the past away?' _

-Third Eye Blind

* * *

_Hisana Harumei, March 1990_

* * *

I knitted my fingers together and pulled them apart again, wondering if all would go as well as my mother had said. After all, I hadn't indulged her on Mr. Kuchiki's confession the past afternoon, so her perception of our relationship was somewhat altered. _Stop being so paranoid, you wimp. He's not a pervert. And if he were, you would've already kicked his ass from here to Kanto._ Realizing that sounded perverted in itself, I huffed out a sigh. It was five-thirty in the morning, and we had just settled into first-class. I had dressed in long pants and a turtleneck just to be safe, but to be frank the outfit was making me sweat a lot. This was the last time I would ever spring for polyester.

Mr. Kuchiki - Byakuya - whoever he was - was seated next to me in a rigor-mortis state, his fingers moving across the keyboard with inhuman speed. There was an undeniable style to the man, I had to give him that, but from time to time I wondered if he had some kind of secret fetish he indulged on the down low, and that kept him calm... hrm. Well, it wasn't likely, but anything was possible. I wondered what we were going to do in Saitama, because even though I had already asked, he couldn't have a meeting _all _week long. Mbuaybe I would get to eat nachos or something. Nachos twinkled my toes.

And other than that, why had I agreed to go on the trip, anyway? Earlier I had figured it was because I didn't have anything else to do that weekend, but it was something else. Maybe I really did want to spend time with my boss, because he was nice beneath all the inhuman tendencies... or at least it seemed so. If he weren't human I would've already been obliterated by his laser vision. This calmed me down.

About twenty minutes after takeoff, I was given a package of roast peanuts and a glass of champagne. What the frick? Firstly, I am allergic to peanuts and all their subsidiaries. Second, I am not old enough to drink. So I was just given a bunch of useless libations on an already hot, annoying plane ride. And to make matters worse, the damn food cart banged my shoulders every time it went by. So much for first class. I huffed a sigh again and stared at the peanuts. I was pretty hungry, but a gigantic swelling tongue wasn't the desired result so I sucked it up.

After another forty minutes, I was so bored I could probably eat my own hand just for something to do. I had already gnawed my fingernails down to stumps, so that would take a fraction less time than it would have before. It amazed me that I was thinking about the time eating my hand would elapse, so I pulled out my pen and drew a quick bunny on the palm of my hand.

"Is that a train?" said Mr. Kuchiki from nowhere, making me jump.

"It's a rabbit," I said, affronted. How could he mistake a bunny for a train?! There was no likeness whatsoever.

"Ah." He glanced at one of his hands that were somehow prettier than mine. This was the kind of crap that really got on my nerves about him - he was better-looking than me. This man did not deserve the injustice of being a man, a creature so devoid of brains it thinks women have no feelings... well, some of them acknowledge our humanity, Mr. Kuchiki being one of them, so I threw that theory away. "Are you tired?"

"Yes," I grounded out of my throat. Of course I was tired. I didn't usually wake up until at least noon during the day. Mr. Kuchiki lowered his head into a single nod and turned his gaze forward again, much to my relief. The last thing I needed was a staring contest with a man who had confessed attraction to me yesterday.

Maybe I had just dreamed that part. Maybe I had spent the day in bed and had had too much coffee the day before... or something like that. But that was a maybe. And it had seemed very real. He hadn't brought it up again, so maybe the best thing to do was to forget about it. _Yes_, I said to myself, _try to keep your mind off of it. _At the moment, keeping my mind off of anything seemed wholly impossible, but it was all I could try to do.

After an eternity we landed in Saitama. It seemed like I was the only one the sun wanted to blaze on. I could feel the sweat all over me. _What kind of idiot packs turtlenecks on a vacation? _I shook my head, getting up and making my way to the edge of the plane.

The airport was large and very high-tech, littered with LCD screens and technicians every left and right. I suddenly felt a bit vulnerable. "Where's my other bag?" I sensed that one was missing.

"It's already at the hotel," said a very suddenly-there Mr. Kuchiki. After jumping in surprise I sucked down a swallow and nodded, following him outside, where a dark car waited. I shuffled into the backseat and stared at the black wall between the front and back seat. That sucked, I had wanted to say hi to the driver.

"Mr. Kuchiki," I said, "why is there a screen?"

"It's simply for privacy," he said, "let's say, for instance, I was making an important phone call. My chauffeur doesn't need to know everything."

Well, that was obvious. "Oh. Well, what if you needed to ask him something?"

He nodded to a small red button near his door. "I page him."

"Seems like too much trouble to me." I shrugged and looked at the bunny on my hand. Sweat had smudged it into a sort of anvil-like shape. "How long until we're at the hotel?"

Mr. Kuchiki stared at me. "You aren't usually this talkative in the mornings. Is there something on your mind?"

I blinked. _You're damn right. _"No, everything's fine, sir."

Eventually we made it to the hotel, one of obvious luxury. There were maids everywhere, waitstaff hurrying about to deliver room service and other things people didn't need. I felt constrained with my two meager suitcases and one purse, but they were all I had after all... until a bellboy came and took them off my hands. Then I was just Hisana Harumei, a shrimp standing there with her much-older boss who seemed to fit in for once.

And oddly, I liked being just Hisana. I wasn't 'the Harumei girl' or 'Kuchiki's assistant' now. Now, I was on vacation... and I was getting excited. While Byakuya worked I could go to the beach and lay naked until I was burnt to a crisp. I could run around like an idiot and not have to worry about people thinking of me as poor. Because what poor person was lucky enough to work for Mr. Kuchiki? I knew of only one.

"Hisana," he said, "I'll take you to your room."

And I got my own room. "Thank you!"

We stood in the elevator as it slowly rose up to the tenth floor, where my room was. Mr. Kuchiki didn't seem phased by all of the diamond chandeliers, of course. He was used to this sort of thing... to some extent. According to him, Byakuya had grown up in a strictly middle-class family, but they had very high standards that he eventually met. Well, we had none of those things in my family, yet here I was.

My room was more like a suite. I felt joyful butterflies when I saw my big fluffy bed, much bigger than my own at home. Heck, I slept on the couch most nights. But there was something wrong with my bed's springs - every time I sat on it, it flew up in the air. No lie.

I sat down a little awkwardly. What was I supposed to do now?

* * *

_Rukia Kuchiki_

* * *

"Ichigo, your shoe."

"My shoe?"

"Yes."

"What about it?"

"Tie it."

The orange head scowled languidly and bent over to right the offending shoe, prompting a relieved sigh from Rukia. She didn't want Ichigo tripping and injuring himself, possibly others, at Akamori and Renji's. She was contemplating on whether to ring the doorbell or not, because her sister was always a little absentminded and might have forgotten their visit altogether. But somehow it didn't seem likely this time around, so Rukia rang the bell.

Just as Ichigo was straightening up Renji answered the door in a pair of jeans and a black jacket. "Hey, guys," he said placidly, holding the door out for them. "Ichigo, be considerate for once in your damn life and take off your shoes."

Ichigo glared and slipped off the tennis shoes he'd been pestered to tie just moments before.

An already barefoot Rukia found herself wandering about the living room. "Where's Akamori?" she asked, suddenly aware of the lack of noise.

"She went out to buy dinner," Renji said absentmindedly, reading what looked like a bill he'd picked up off the counter. Oddly enough, it didn't seem to phase him as it normally would. "What have you two been doing?"

"Nothing," Rukia said truthfully. She had slept most of the day, and Ichigo... that was unknown. "You?"

"Work," he stated.

"Ah." Rukia sat down at the counter and looked at the fridge, and a picture on it led to another question. "Where's Chihiro?"

"Akamori has her," Renji said, but his tone was a bit irritated. "She takes her everywhere..." he trailed off without much emotion and grabbed an apple from the counter, biting it loudly. Ichigo settled next to Rukia at the counter.

"Does the kid annoy you much yet?"

Renji shook his head. "Not really."

"Tsk," Ichigo clicked, "she will. May there be mercy on your night's sleep." He blinked nostalgically and shook his head. "Little demons."

Renji came back to the conversation. "Just because your sisters were heathens doesn't mean Chihiro is," he declared steadfastly, taking another bite.

Ichigo's face spasmed with anger. "What did you just-"

At that time, a large knock came from the door, shortly before Akamori let herself in. She held a bag of groceries on one arm and a baby carrier in the other, in which lay her sleeping daughter. She dropped the bags on the table, and an apple rolled across the floor.

"Hi, Akamori," Rukia said.

"Hey." Akamori smiled and picked up the apple, brushing it across her sweater. "How are you?" she said, handing the baby carrier to Renji. The redhead seemed a little confused, so he placed it on the table.

"I'm okay," Rukia said truthfully. "I went to the movies earlier."

"What did you see?" her sister was suddenly interested.

"...A horror. I don't remember the name..."

"That bad, huh?" Akamori said knowingly, walking to the kitchen with the groceries. "Well, there isn't really much out right now, besides Twilight, and everyone's seen that already. I get it." She began to unload the various groceries. Rukia watched Ichigo, who was looking at the baby with intent eyes. She felt a little surprised, because from what she'd seen he didn't like children. "So," Akamori said, looking at Renji. "Anything interesting happen at Kuchiki's today?"

"Not really," he said with a shrug, looking morosely at the apple core. "Your dad says that your mom says you need come and visit them soon."

"Really? Well, that was unexpected." She let out a long sigh and continued emptying the bag. "They're making you messenger now?"

"Most likely." He threw the spent apple into the trash and looked at her again. "And what about you? What did you do today?"

"I got ice cream," she said simply.

"Oh." Renji looked at the floor.

"Toshiro doing all right?"

It took Rukia a few minutes to realize Renji wasn't on the receiving end of the conversation anymore. "Oh, he's..." she bit her lip. "He's fine." Truth be told, Toshiro had been acting weird since the first day of school. Not that he wasn't weird before then, but still. "He went with us today."

"That's good for him," Akamori said. "Hey," she said to Ichigo, tone getting a little darker.

The Strawberry looked up. "Yeah?"

"Where are your social skills? Say hi to your future family," she said playfully.

Ichigo went red. "Huh?"

Rukia was also a slow reactant to the statement. She went pink slowly, but then remembered that this was Akamori she was dealing with. "Oh, shut up," she muttered.

Akamori winked at her and crumpled up the empty grocery bag. Rukia noticed the bandages and her hands and remembered the events of a few days ago with a tremor in her stomach, but her sister seemed to have forgotten about it or at the very least put it out of her mind.

* * *

_Toshiro Hitsugaya_

* * *

I sighed a little. Today I had been towed around town by Rukia and her annoying 'friend' Ichigo, as well as the obnoxious Inoue girl. My cousin and Ichigo had gone about ten minutes earlier to Renji and Akamori's house. Of course, no one had bothered to invite me.

I cracked my knuckles and ashed my cigarette over the side of the railing on which I was perched. Before I had gotten into... this habit, nothing ever relaxed me. But that thought wasn't condoning it - to smoke at all was terrible, but it was few and far between that I would pass up the chance to do it.

Eventually, the air got too cold. Even for me. I stamped out the cigarette and folded my arms around myself, enveloping any heat I had managed to muster, and slid off the rail to the ground. Luckily the front doors were only a few feet away, glossed with pure ice. One was slightly ajar - how stupid were these people? - so I opened it with my foot and reveled in the heat. I stood in this zone of comfort for a few moments before remembering that my room was upstairs.

For some reason, my legs felt brittle. I rolled my arm around in its socket for a few moments and felt a sharp wave of pain. _I think it's time I visited the gym, _I thought resignedly. If I didn't keep in shape... well, now I didn't have to. But it was definitely better than being a lard, right? I smiled wryly to myself as I approached the large room. None of the equipment was out - good, because it would only get in my way. I bit down on the inside of my cheek and dropped to the floor.

_

* * *

_

"So," I said, "What do you want to do for the science project?"

"Mm-hm," Momo said through a mouthful of cookie. "How about… molecules?" she said when she was done.

"Like atoms and all that crap?" I asked, turning on the sink and blasting soap across the food-caked dishes. He had never been an avid eater, but lately he'd been doing it for comfort in place of cigarettes, and it was coming back to haunt me, given the small amount of pudge on my chin. Luckily I'd picked back up on cigarettes about fifteen minutes ago.

"Yep." Momo yawned and ate another cookie.

"Boring. Pick something else."

"Uh… reproduction?" she seemed to be running out of ideas quickly. Sweet as she was, Momo wasn't the brightest bulb in the batch.

"We're not in health class. Next."

"Food processing?"

"Garbage." I dried a Coke-a-Cola glass and slid it into the cabinet.

"Human anatomy?" Momo raised her eyebrows.

"Grey's Anatomy." I tried feebly to make her laugh, and it worked. But Momo sighed in exasperation and put her hands up in defeat.

"I give up," she stated with a sigh, playing with a hole in her sock. "Toshiro, I think you need a vacation."

This irked me. "Why?"

"Your dorm's already filthy, and you're so stressed out."

"I'll manage," I said, starting to skin a potato with one of the small knives I had washed. "Besides, I'm not the only one. Look at your eyes, Momo, you look like a little panda."

Momo went red. "I've been cramming for this stupid project, trying to figure out what we should even do! Kira has no clue, either..." she ended her sentence with a look of utter confusion, alabaster brow crunched into a frown. "He's been kind of tense lately, too."

"Spectacular." I scraped the shavings into the trash and got out a mixing spoon to mash the potato. "Maybe you should be pitching a vacation to him, then. I have a lot on my mind, and leaving is not going to make it disappear."

"Oh," Momo said, at a loss for words. "Well, Senna seems kind of upset, too."

I stared at the potatoes. "About what?"

"Well, she's been that way for a while now. Whitey, whenever I tap her on the shoulder or even call out her name, she jumps like I smacked her! She's sort of paranoid, I think..." Momo stretched out on the couch and pulled another cookie from the plastic packaging.

"Senna's just uneasy," I defended, "Not paranoid." I picked up the spoon and began to pulverize our dinner, my vision blurring a bit in the middle of it all.

"I know. I just wonder about her sometimes. It's sort of like I know, but I know I sort of don't know. You know?"

"I know," I said, smiling inwardly at the number of times she'd used the word 'know'. Momo was so winsome. "By the way, when was the last time you saw her?"

'I invited her to come and eat with us. She should be here any minute," Momo replied nonchalantly.

I felt the spoon drop into the bowl with a muffled thump. "Huh?"

Momo smiled. "Your expression is just so funny, Whitey. It looks like your stomach fell out of your butt."

I swallowed. "Momo, you really shouldn't invite Senna over without telling me first..." my eyes wandered around the room, at the irreversable clutter that had taken staid.

"Relax!" she said. "It'll be fine."

* * *

"Holy crap! It's like nuclear sludge!" Akamori said in amazement as she stared at her concoction. The bubbling red and yellow glop smelled like rotten eggs and burnt rubber. "Hey, Renji! You've got to come take a look at this!"

Renji looked up in exasperation. "I told you we should've ordered something. Now the place is going to stink."

Rukia sniffed. "What's it supposed to be? It looks like play dough." And smelled like it to boot.

Akamori turned up her nose. "It's supposed to be lasagna. Now quit rubbing it in. I can't cook. Big deal." She poked at the food with a spatula, and it sizzled angrily at her.

"Orihime can't cook either, if it makes you feel any better," said Ichigo, who was reading a magazine on the couch. "Actually, I really don't know anyone who can cook. Other than my sister."

Rukia saw her sister huff in derision. "Now that's just a little sad that a kid is a better cook than I am. Renji, back me up here."

"...She plays a good game of poker," he said after a moment, staring at Akamori in unison with Chihiro. "And Blackjack too."

"Well, most housewives can't play poker or Blackjack," Rukia said, "but I guess it doesn't matter as much. What are we going to eat now?" as she asked her sister the question, she found herself facing Ichigo. He looked up and she turned away from the mahogany eyes, feeling a little winded after the fact.

"I've got an idea. Let's just eat out somewhere," she said, taking a seat at the counter and clawing her wallet open. "Damn thing... looks like I have enough for that, though. What do you say?" her tone colored with expectance, Akamori looked at Renji.

"It couldn't hurt," he said with a shrug. "Ichigo, what the hell are you reading?"

Ichigo's cheeks puckered slightly. "Some car magazine. Don't you have anything better to read?"

"I thought men liked car magazines," Akamori piped up, raising her eyebrows. "Or are you into more... risque things?"

Rukia cut across her. "Ichigo likes Shakespeare." The fact that Ichigo wasn't into porn magazines seemed to be worth voicing, in front of her sister anyway. Akamori could be very judgmental when she wanted to be.

Renji snorted. "Really?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said, "The man was a genius."

"He seems to be," Akamori said, her hands busy trying to find the wallet she'd had just moments before. "Damn, why can't I ever find anything around here?" she muttered. "It's like stuff's running from me..."

Renji rolled his eyes. "How about this, eh? We go out to eat, you can take Rukia to a movie, and I'll hang out with Ichigo."

"Why the sudden need for separation?" Akamori questioned, and Rukia wondered the same thing.

"The guy needs a drink. Look at him."

"Yes, Renji. Just because someone isn't an alcoholic definitely means that they have a clinical problem."

"Shut up."

Rukia was reminded of herself and Ichigo as she watched them bicker over the stupidest things. Somehow, though, she wanted to put that out of her head, because it would be... alien to think of Ichigo that way. It weirded her out a little. It wasn't like he was ugly - far from it, she had to admit - but Rukia was wondering if maybe she wasn't good looking enough for him. It wasn't like she was Hisana - a pretty woman, sure, but Rukia also looked like Byakuya, who was gorgeous for a man, but thanks to the extreme difference in appearance, the two of them together didn't really make attractive children... except Akamori, the carbon-copy of their father. Rukia wasn't sure who she looked like, because her mother had always seemed more attractive.

"Hey, Rukia. Earth to Rukia." Her sister was waving a hand in front of her face. "You spaced out again."

A droplet of sweat seemed to be lingering on Rukia's head. "Sorry," she murmured, slipping her shoes on and meeting Ichigo's eyes. He stood up and stepped into his own shoes with much ease, making her a little envious again. But tonight, Rukia figured, she might as well have a little fun.

* * *

"Rukia, you can't sit in the front. You're what, 4'9''? No way. Back for you," Akamori said with a hint of smirk, sliding into the front seat with a bit more of a flourish than was necessary. "Renji, turn on the radio."

Some overly-wild rock tune blared through the whole car. It sounded a lot like Green Day, but Rukia noticed it didn't phase Chihiro, who still slept peacefully. _Well, it's a good thing she's getting used to them early, _she thought with a smile. In a way, she was jealous of the little baby who would get to have a lot more fun with her parents.

"So Ichigo," Renji said, turning the radio down for a moment, "Have you scored yet?"a

"I'm not into sports," Ichigo said offhandedly.

Akamori laughed. "He doesn't mean scored a touchdown or anything. He means _scored_."

_Oh, gosh, not this again. _Rukia huffed out an angry breath and tried to compose herself, but failed miserably. "Ichigo and I have NOT slept together!" she blurted from some deep, inner corner of her head. Or that's what it seemed like, given everyone's expressions. Renji had his eyebrows raised in the rearview mirror, Akamori looked as if she had been electrocuted, and Ichigo was blinking continuously. Naturally she didn't blush but frowned at them all.

"What?"

"I never said you slept with Ichigo," Renji said, on the verge of laughter, "I was actually talking about Orihime."

Ichigo glared daggers at him. "We're just friends."

"I know that. But friends get it on sometimes, right Akamori?" Renji turned to her.

"True," she complied, opening her previously lost wallet. "But friends are sometimes just friends, too. Like you and me."

"Yeah," he agreed.

Rukia blinked. They were _just friends_? There was no way that was true, it was absurd. If they were just friends, why was she living with him? It wasn't right for friends to live together... but they had already had a baby together. So that was a definite... "Liars," she murmured.

Her sister turned around. "Liar? I'm telling the truth, Rukes. Me and Renji are friends."

"Well, kind of like domestic friends," Renji said. "We're not really _with _each other. She's my best friend, more like."

"Basically," Akamori said. "You know, kind of like you and Ichigo. You live together."

"That's a dorm." Rukia shook her head. "It's different. We were assigned to that."

"Think about something, Rukia. If me and Akamori hadn't had Chihiro, do you think we'd be together, really?" Renji inquired, clicking on the turn signal as they entered Karakura Plaza. "I mean, I like her, but..."

"But we've got a lot going on in our lives right now," Akamori finished. "For instance, I'm going to law school some time after I can find a babysitter. I'm good at arguing with people."

"We're not arguing that," remarked Ichigo with a smirk. Rukia smiled at him but looked away, feeling a little awkward given today's other events. "Where are we eating?"

"You guys like Izumi's?" Akamori asked.

Their eyes met again. Izumi's was where they had eaten after his birthday. "Yeah," Rukia said simply, "we like it there." She remembered Ichigo calling her and standing outside the window, as he had dared, with a smile. She wished it was still that warm out.

* * *

Oddly enough, the five were seated at the same table Ichigo and Rukia had eaten at almost five months before. The inside smelled the same, of wood polish and cigarettes long burnt out. Typical bar smells. Rukia sat near the window and watched some soft snow fall with a smile. She had missed the snow as much as she had the heat.

Akamori and Renji were dealing with Chihiro, who had decided to start screaming as soon as they had sat down. Apparently she liked riding in the car better, but so did Rukia, whose behind was irritated by the hard wood. She shifted in her seat and tried to get more comfortable, succeeding somewhat but still a little pained.

Eventually, Chihiro had calmed down enough for a waiter to approach the table. Rukia ordered a burger and a soda, because she didn't feel like pigging out. Akamori rebuked her and said she could buy a lobster for all she cared. Rukia got a burger anyway.

Ichigo seemed to be satisfied with broccoli soup, something that made the youngest Kuchiki child gag a little. Broccoli was higher on her black list than eating poop, but Ichigo didn't seem to like it much either. He casually dropped his spoon under the table and drank Pepsi.

Renji ate a sub full of what seemed to be all types of meat imaginable. Well, it wasn't like that wasn't his favorite. He took down six beers.

Akamori ate scallops and appeared to be fully satisfied with that. So full, in fact, she spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom while a somewhat inebriated Renji dealt with Chihiro, who had OD'd on baby food (which seemed impossible).

"Hopefully later tonight everyone'll have more fun," Akamori said optimistically as she sat back down at the table.

Renji sighed and ordered coffee, staring angrily into the cup when it arrived. "Shit," he murmured.

Rukia sighed and tried not to look at her bloated stomach. When she did, she pulled her coat closed immediately. _No popcorn for me tonight, _she thought smartly.

"So, why is it we have to split up again?" Ichigo said, looking at Rukia and Akamori in turn. "I mean, come on. You want me to sit around and watch Renji play pool all night?"

Renji was still glaring at the coffee. "I hate pool," he said acerbically.

"Well, whatever," Akamori said. "Rukes and I are taking Chihiro with us."

Renji looked up and frowned. "Uh-uh. No way. What if you get drunk?"

"Yeah. Like you're not going to. Deal with it." Akamori put a fifty on the table, but decided to add an extra ten. "Stupid beer," she said, picking up the baby carrier and gesturing for them. "Come on, you guys can keep the car with you. We'll take a Town Car." She gave Ichigo a sideways glance. "Don't let him drive."

Ichigo nodded and turned his eyes on Rukia. "Bye, midget," he said in a casual tone.

"Bye," Rukia felt a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't really been away from Ichigo since Chihiro was born, and that was very alienating. In a way, he had become a constant in her life, a... as much as she hated to admit it, a security blanket. He was her best friend after all, and she should be upset when they were separated, but there was no way best friends felt _this _upset. Rukia gave him a smile and tried to force her body away, but it wasn't happening. Ichigo's eyebrows were raised, as were Renji's.

"Are you all right?" the orange head asked. "Midget, you look like you're having a coronary."

"I'm fine," Rukia seethed. Akamori had stopped near the door.

"I'm not forcing you out of here, kid. Stay! Gosh." Akamori smiled and rolled her eyes. "Hell," she said, sidling back into her chair, "I'll stay too. We'll hang out some other night, okay?"

It sounded crazy in her head, but Rukia wondered... did Akamori actually _know _about her security-blanket feeling? Her sister was thick-headed and as stubborn as Toshiro, but she was smart. Too smart to not know about... Rukia shook her head and pushed the word away. There was no way. None. She grounded out a breath and sat back down in her chair across from Ichigo and tried to focus on the baby, who was looking at her with wide blue eyes. Rukia suddenly remembered Hisana and was grateful to Chihiro's genetics for a subject change.

"What are Hisana and Byakuya doing tonight?" she asked.

"Probably each other," Akamori grinned. "Nah, I bet they're just kind of hanging out. Mom's probably asleep, what with her baby and everything. Can you believe she's actually having another one?"

"No, I can't," Rukia said, not even listening. She was focused on Ichigo, who seemed to be interrogating her with his eyes. She didn't have the strength now to tell him to stop looking at her like she usually did, nor did she really feel like it. Since Renji had thought of Ichigo and Orihime as a potential couple, it had gotten her thinking. Ichigo didn't really like Orihime, so it was best not to break the buxom redhead's heart. Keeping him away from her seemed to be a good idea.

"Hey," he said, "You hear about that dance next week?"

"Yes," she said.

"Somehow Toshiro wound up on the planning committee," he said with a smirk.

Rukia blinked, feeling a little disoriented. "No kidding?"

Akamori leaned in. "Toshiro? Doing something that requires pep? Apocalypse, seriously." She sipped her drink. "Anyways, you two going to that dance together or something?"

"I don't think it's a going-with-someone type of dance," Ichigo said, frowning. "And even if it were, why would I take Rukia?"

"Seriously." Rukia felt relieved that they had gone back into the Ichigo-hates-Rukia-and-she-hates-him-back scenario. It was a lot less heavy on her conscience. "Besides, how would we even dance together? I'm too short."

Ichigo scoffed. "Yeah."

Akamori only seemed more interested. Damn her. "Well, I was just wondering. You don't have to get pissy about it."

"I'm not getting pissy," Ichigo said in a clearly pissy mutter, "you just talk too much. You and the rest of your family."

"Your family's screwed up, too. Take a look at Renji. He sleeps in and he drinks like a fish." She looked at Renji, who was using his napkin as a pillow as he napped through the conversation. "It's best if he sleeps it off," she mused.

Rukia's phone buzzed in her pocket. It read KUCHIKI HISANA again. She picked up. "Hello?"

"Rukia, it's good to talk to you again," Hisana said merrily. "How are you?"

"Fine," Rukia said, not entirely sure about that. "You?"

"Morning sickness, but in the evening! That doesn't make any sense," her mother muttered. "Anyway, where are you?"

"I'm at Izumi's with Akamori, Renji, Chihiro... and Ichigo," she said.

"Ichigo's there! Really, well, that's good. I can just--"

"Mom," Rukia cut her off, "I know that, and I don't want to talk about it."

Hisana changed tack at top speed. "How's your sister?"

Rukia swallowed. "Well, she seems fine to me." Akamori was fine on her own and with other people. She didn't see how Hisana could worry so much. "I don't think I should waste up my minutes, Mom, I really..."

"Rukia, what's wrong?" she asked, tone laced with concern.

"Nothing," Rukia said, and she sounded so convincing that for a moment she actually believed herself. "I... am just sleepy, is all. I'll get back to Renji and Akamori's and go to sleep, okay? I'll call you when I wake up."

Hisana was quiet for a while. "...Well, okay, Rukia. I'll wait for your call."

"Where's Father?" she asked, as he had suddenly flitted into her mind.

"He's sitting right here, actually." Hisana's voice faltered for a moment as she looked at her husband. "But he's writing a paper right now. So I'll tell him good night for you."

"Good night, Rukia," said Byakuya.

"Good night," Rukia said, feeling a little shell-shocked by the fact that he'd actually spoken. "Call you in the morning, Mom."

"Sleep sweetly," Hisana said before ending the call. Rukia sat for a moment as the dial tone droned in her ear, expression clouded by idleness. She wasn't sure of what to do now, even if there were no dilemmas to cause that.

* * *

A little while after that, Akamori had driven them all home. Rukia and Ichigo had ridden in the back with Chihiro, who wore the same sleeping expression as her father. Rukia clomped up the steps to her sister's apartment, feeling a little punch-drunk and very, very sleepy. She wandered around in front of the door for a few minutes while Akamori unlocked it.

Renji was awake then. "What?"

"Nobody was talking to you," Akamori said with a sigh. "Come on, pineapple, we're going to bed."

"Bed," Renji said contentedly, shuffling down the hallway toward his room and disappearing from sight. Rukia sat down on the smaller couch with happy legs, stretching out and making a noise like a happy cat.

Ichigo sat down on the longer couch. "Have fun?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Rukia murmured, burying her head in the pillow.

"What was wrong with you at the restaurant?" he asked, sounding harried. Rukia felt her beryl eyes shoot open.

"I..." she said softly. "I was sleepy. I still am."

"If you're upset, just... I'll be here," he said.

"Thanks, Ichigo," she said with a yawn, smiling at him in spite of herself.

"Sweet dreams, shortie," he said.

* * *

**Okay, so I am updating at last. I was in a freakishly long rut with this one - a month - and I'm sorry about that. The chapter wasn't that good. But I've really, really got to hurry here. I have like 40 alerts on this story and yet 40 people don't review. Please review this time, it'll make me happy. Thanks for reading.**

* * *


	20. Merry Christmas, Rukia

First, I would like to give a wholehearted thanks to all of last chap's reviewers! All of you with accounts have been favorited! (Unless I was being a dimwit as I so often do. If this is the case, let me know!) In the meantime, ah, Ichigo and Rukia have reached Christmas. Yep. It's Christmastime! (In She's Like the Moon, anyway. If I were a faster writer, it would be February in SLTM, but I am not.) This chapter is going to rock your socks off, I'm sure. :D

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx** fanfic

* * *

_  
I'll always look out for you.  
That's what I'll do._

-Coldplay

* * *

Hisana Harumei  
_April 1990_

* * *

I'd never been a paranoid girl. I was open to other people, courteous and sweet, but Mr. Kuchiki was making me uncomfortable—he had been avoiding me since our arrival in Saitama. I knew it was because of what he had told me before, and… I felt inhuman for not having any feelings in return. I mean, how was I supposed to? He was twenty years older than me. Though he was cold, he was nice… and gorgeous, and rich. 'Rich' didn't have any benefits for me—I had been poor my entire life and I could deal with it. But it was just the fact that he felt sorry for me that made me mad. I wasn't his secretary because I needed the money—my mother had a full time job—it was that I _wanted _the money. I planned to be financially independent from the get-go.

I was sitting on my bed, replying to a letter my mom had sent me.

_Hisana, _it had said, _I hope you're having fun in Saitama. Have you visited the ocean yet? It's nice there, you would look very pretty with a tan. Not that you're not beautiful. :) Your father and I have missed you back here. How is Mr. Kuchiki? I sincerely hope he's being good to you. If you're ever tired of being there or want to come home, you can hop right on the plane. We'll be here! Anyway, I'll have your school clothes ready when you get home. Your classmates have been asking about you, and some of them think you're never coming back! Well, that would be terrible. But I know you. Much love. Mom._

So far, all I had was, _Hi, Mom. I'm glad you took the time to write me, because I know you're busy with work_

I hadn't even put a period at the end, my mind was so full. I felt emotionally fried. Today, I had planned to go out to the ocean and take a dip, but I was far too tired. I felt as though I was tangled up in a web that had been spun for me and only me.

I closed my box of stationary, but didn't put it in the drawer. I curled into a small ball on the surface of my bed and let my arms hang limp, knowing that I needed to shower. I was wearing my plain white nightgown and a pair of white tights to keep me warm—nights were chilly here. I smelled terrible. I buried my face in the covers and tried to think of some happier days—like yesterday. Mr. Kuchiki had taken me to see the opera… another thing I shouldn't have accepted from him.

I sighed deeply. Even though I was being overdramatic, it seemed as if I couldn't help it. I needed to go away from here, somewhere… somewhere isolated. Like my own private island with bright white sand, big white skies… white oceans… White had always calmed me. I hadn't ever really figured out why, but it instilled a sense of being to me. As if white could bleach me, I wanted to be on my own. White, with nothing to taint.

Without another thought, I turned over and stared at the ceiling's pattern. Ellipse after ellipse. Into the nothingness, it seemed, it would move on…

I shook my head. Maybe a shower would calm my nerves.

With heavy legs I trudged across the room and to the chest of drawers, pulling out my white slacks and a big blue jacket. These would be good clothes for walking on the beach later after my nap. What a shame that I worried about what I was going to do later. At home, there was never a choice. It was always work.

After an effortless shower, I slipped into these clothes as well as my white flip flops. The sun had given Saitama a break today, so that was fine. I opened the door to a rush of ocean breeze, and I inhaled with pleasure. _I'll be able to find peace, I hope._

A long dock ran across the beach and wound down to the water's edge. I shuffled across this dock for a long time, watching the gulls and the opalline clouds that floated by in the sky. When I reached the end, though, I found that I wasn't alone after all.

Mr. Kuchiki was in his suit and tie near the water, his hair moving slightly with the breeze. I was speechless by the sudden change of environment, since I'd usually only seen him around the office, but I knew that was hard on him. He turned as soon as I thought he would.

"Hello, Hisana," he said.

"Hello." I looked out at the swelling sea, unsure of what to do next. The water was a crisp blue-green today.

Apparently my boss didn't have anything to say either. His eyes watched the skyline. "A storm is coming," he said.

"It'll be good for the plant life," I allowed, looking up at the clouds. They did look a bit less pale to the east. I pushed my hands into my pockets and went on, "Thank you for taking me to the opera yesterday."

"It wasn't a problem. I don't know of many people your age who are interested in the theater," Mr. Kuchiki said softly.

"I love theater," I affirmed quietly.

"I could tell. You seemed excited by it."

I nodded.

"You needed some fresh air, I gather."

I blinked a little bit. "I was tired of being inside, yes. It gets lonely in there."

He sighed, a sound that was hardly a sound at all. "It does. I've found myself out here several times since we came."

"Me too," I confessed, looking at the water-swollen wood with cast eyes. It didn't strike me as odd that he was out here, really. He had just as many emotions as the next person, really, so… I didn't really want to share the place I had been coming to for freedom, but I would have to. "How was your meeting?"

"It was fine. We're stationed out here for the next month, according to the Board." He closed his eyes, opened them upon impact, and turned them on me. "Is that all right with you?"

I had gotten used to the beautiful eyes by now. "That's fine. Just as long as I don't have to park," I said, making a feeble attempt at humor. He turned away again and continued to stare at the sea as I cursed myself. When I finished, I watched it too. It was less turbulent now, a little softer to look at. A contented glaze slid over my eyes, and my hands autonomously went in my pockets. I wondered for a moment why I was so cold, but it was probably from my shower.

"Are your parents all right with you staying out here?" Mr. Kuchiki questioned.

I was confused. "Yeah. They signed the release, didn't they?"

His expression did not falter. "I meant, most parents would be very upset with a daughter who was leaving the prefecture to work for a man twenty years older than she."

That's what I had been thinking about that morning. I raised an eyebrow. "I don't see the problem with that, sir. Age is a number. Besides, it's just work. No harm done, right?" I broke off with a nervous chuckle, knowing I had already said too much.

Shockingly, he seemed a little… amused. "No harm done," he repeated, a small smile appearing on his delicate lips. I wanted to do something to make sure I wasn't dreaming, but I knew I wasn't, anyway. He was _human_, someone who smiled and laughed. It just took time.

"Anyway, if my mom did have a problem, well, up hers!" I exclaimed with a grin.

His smile intensified. "Hisana, you have an interesting sense of humor."

"I get that a lot," I said. It was true—my mother told me that I should be a comedian. Sadly, most comedians were unattractive. I was average, so nah. "Anyway, sir, what are we supposed to do for the rest of the vacation?"

"It is a vacation, so, I suppose we should just relax," he mused.

I pictured myself with one of those big metal boards that reflected light. People used them to tan a lot… anyway, I pictured myself lying on a striped beach chair with one of those unknown items.

The idea was surprisingly appealing.

"Relax. Right, I can do that." I smiled happily.

"I'm sure. There is a fireworks show, tonight at eight o'clock. Would you like to go?" when he asked me this time, he seemed a lot less formal than the night of the opera. It calmed me a lot.

"Sure. I'd appreciate that." Without meaning to, I smiled again. Kuchiki did the same, but his was less intense. Oh well. With him, anything meant a lot. Deciding that I'd laid it on a bit too thick, I turned my gaze to the sky. It was perfect firework weather—quiet and clear.

* * *

___I found one answer; that even if I'm scared, even if I'm hurt,  
I can say "I love you" to the person I love._

* * *

"Oh, Rukia, no! The golden garlands go on the doorway!" Orihime cried, chasing after her wee friend. Rukia stood on a large, tottering stool, and she still wasn't tall enough to reach the nail that she was supposed to put a wreath on. She turned her head for a split second only to have the wreath stolen from her and placed on easily by a suddenly-there Ichigo, who smirked.

"Hey," he said, "Leave the decorations to the grownups." Ichigo was wearing a pair of slim-fit jeans and a red sweater. He wore a green band around his wrist to complete the Christmas colors.

Rukia frowned and stepped off the stool. "I don't see why we have to help Toshiro with this dance, anyway. It's not like he doesn't have tall friends." She jammed her hands into the pockets of her Christmas dress. Uryu had made an outfit for everyone on the Dance Committee, much to their vexation. They looked like the movie _Elf _had thrown up on them, but she wasn't about to complain when he had nicely crafted this dress together. It was kind of cute, actually, but that was probably because of her stature. Orihime looked a little unnatural in it, having been unable to do the top two buttons, causing several nosebleeds in the halls. It wasn't like Rukia hadn't produced a fair amount of nosebleeds, but that was only because of her somewhat round derriere. That was the one good trait Akamori had _not _received.

December's dance had originally been scheduled on the 1st, but due to inclement weather it had been postponed - 24 days ahead. Christmas Eve was upon Karakura High School, and Rukia smiled in anticipation of all the gifts she would receive from her parents - and Ichigo. What would he get her? Just as Rukia was mulling this over, Ichigo called her attention to him.

"So, I have to go out tonight and buy friggin' tux," he said with a sigh. "Toshiro roped me into it. Who knew he had any fashion sense?"

"Who cares is the more important question. Toshiro just wants to look good for Momo." Rukia plopped down in one of the Committee's chairs and pulled out her cell phone, but there was nothing fresh there. Hisana had been lagging in her phone calls of late, as had her sister... but they had been running around town with colossal shopping carts, so there was no need for blame. Instead, Renji had been calling 24/7, harassing Rukia because she hadn't yet told Akamori what she wanted for Christmas. Rukia had taken to putting her phone on _Ignore _when he called.

"Momo?" Ichigo asked, his frown growing more evident. "Nah, I think he's taking that Shuurin girl. Senna." Ichigo's eyes were meditative. "Now that I think about it, she's kind of the only girl who isn't a foot taller than him. He lucked out."

"Yeah." Rukia shut her phone and looked at him. "What time is this dance tonight?"

Ichigo thought it over. "I think eight," he mumbled.

"Good," Rukia said, "This means I have time to try and call my dad. I need to go stay with them over break." She was speaking more to herself than Ichigo, but he didn't seem to take it that way.

"What? No way! What am I gonna do without you? Hang out with Uryu?" they both glanced warily at the bespectacled man, sitting at the table by the window with a book in hand. Orihime was telling him something about garlands (lately, they were all she could talk about) but he wasn't interested. Poor Orihime, she was always being ignored.

"You'll just have to," Rukia said, sending a smirk his way. On the rare occasion that Ichigo gave her some mileage for teasing, she always milked it for all it was worth. After all, this was Ichigo, and that was what you had to do. "And he can teach you to do a cross-stitch."

"Joy." Ichigo rolled his eyes, but looked stressed again without hesitation. "C'mon, Rukia, you can't leave for Christmas. You're keeping everyone here from insanity. Besides, who's going to make sure Orihime doesn't get roped into a cruel mistletoe trick by a bunch of seniors or something? We need you here, because… eh, who am I kidding. You keep stuff interesting." He shrugged and went a light puce, something that intrigued Rukia greatly. Was Ichigo getting the security blanket feeling, too? Maybe it was universal. Rukia shook her head to clear her jumbled brain, and it worked.

"Listen, Ichigo—wait, shouldn't you be going home for break? Karin and Yuzu must miss you." She hadn't thought of the twins for a few months, but they were a top reason for Ichigo to leave for the holidays. "We can hang out at the hill, you know, the one right next to the moon?"

Ichigo's face was wistful. "Damn, I wish it was that warm…" his eyes clouded over in momentary thought. Rukia remembered, too, for a minute, the foggy night with so many mosquitoes, in which she and Ichigo had lay in the field and bickered. How she missed those days. But at least he was here, and they were still friends.

Rukia smiled to get her mind off of it. "Anyway, I think I should go and get ready for this thing. I—"

"Rukia!" said Orihime suddenly, making them both jump with her sudden appearance. "You won't believe how pretty I'm going to make you! I'll get out my straighteners, and we'll cover up that nasty pimple on your cheek—"

"Orihime!" Rukia growled, a little too angrily given the redhead's expression. "Oh… well, you can give me a makeover if you want to. I don't mind." Inwardly, though, Rukia was balking. Orihime would turn her into a white-faced, powdery mini-Barbie, and she would not be too pleased with that. But… As long as it made Orihime happy, she would… "And we can watch a movie before the dance. Does that sound like fun?"

Orihime nodded fervently. "Do you have the dress I picked out?"

"Yes," Rukia sighed, a very short, glittery blue dress bombarding her mind's eye. "I'll put it on when I get upstairs, and then you can do whatever—"

"No, Rukia! First, you need a bath, and then, then we get to hair, and makeup. And then nails, if we have time…" Orihime already sounded like a full-fledged beautician, and Rukia hoped she wasn't as hopeless with makeup as she was with food.

* * *

_I must be dreaming, or we're onto something.  
I must be dreaming, for, I don't fall in love lawlessly._

* * *

Renji sat at his desk with nothing short of a hangover, his mind buzzing with memories from the night before. He had passed out… and then it had been time for work. Akamori had been less than pleased by his lack of sobriety, and he couldn't blame her, but it had been a special occasion. The Superbowl had been on, for Pete's sake. He booted up his computer and was beginning to type when there was a soft knock on the door.

Byakuya was in a dark blue suit with patent leather shoes, his eyes peering dispassionately over his glasses. "Good morning, Renji," he said frostily. "…Merry Christmas," he added as a grudging afterthought.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Kuchiki," Renji mumbled almost silently, but within fifteen seconds his head shot up when he remembered who he was talking to. "Mr. Kuchiki! Good morning, sir, how was your weekend?" he had heard about it from Hisana, but finding conversation with Kuchiki was easier said than done. "Fine," Byakuya said. "I trust Akamori is well?" there was a look in his eyes that seemed as if he were threatening Renji rather than asking a question.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine," Renji sputtered. His eyes wandered to a picture of Akamori and Chihiro next to the nameplate on his desk, and wondered what they were doing right now. "I mean, well, she wants to go back to school and become a lawyer, that's what she wants, but—"

"I know," Byakuya cut across. "She's been saying that since she was three."

"Oh," Renji immediately felt foolish and somewhat inferior to Kuchiki—but of course he was. Why had his ego been inflated? "All right, Mr. Kuchiki."

"Hisana used to work in this office," Byakuya said absentmindedly, and he seemed to be speaking to himself. "It is in need of a paint job, and crown mold—" and then he remembered Renji's presence as the redhead looked blankly at him. "Oh, yes. Right, Renji. I have a preposition for you."

Renji sat up straighter, his ears perking up to the words. "Yes?"

"I have been introduced to a young woman who wishes to study business by entering some form of hands-on program. Would you mind showing her the basics of your job?"

The redhead blinked slowly, a little taken aback and disappointed. A promotion would have thrown his hangover to the winds, but now he only felt more lethargic than before. "Yes, sir. That would be fine." He buried a hand in his hair.

"It seems you've had a rough week," Byakuya said somewhat incredulously.

Renji's eyes widened at him as his mind tried to wheedle the sentence together. "Sir?"

"I have been working in this field for thirty-two years, Abarai," he said frigidly, closing his eyes in contempt. "I know it can be taxing. Keep in mind that the holidays are here, and you will have this time to recuperate from your … hard work." Kuchiki opened his austere eyes. "By the way, my wife said something to me recently, and I would like to ask you a question."

Baffled, Renji agreed. "Of course, sir."

Kuchiki cleared his throat without much noise. "You've been living with my daughter for almost a year now, I believe. Before which, you fathered my granddaughter."

Renji's eyes narrowed a little, wondering where this was going. "Sir, I don't really understand what you're trying to say." He disliked talking about Akamori and Chihiro with Byakuya, who had basically shunned them. It wasn't as if he detested the man, but he had very little respect for him.

Byakuya continued as if he had not been interrupted. "My wife feels that you and Akamori are… she feels that you'll 'work out', or so she tells me." His lips twisted unpleasantly but he moved on. "I have asked her if you two planned to marry, and Hisana said that Rukia hasn't told her anything on that subject."

_Since when is Rukia your little spy? _Renji thought bitterly, feeling scorn on the younger Kuchiki child despite the fact that he knew she hadn't done anything. "Mhm," he said.

Byakuya arched a pitch-black brow. "You don't intend on getting married." As usual, he said it as a statement rather than an inquiry.

Renji stared. "Mr. Kuchiki, sir, I'd tell you that I didn't, but I really don't know about that right now. I have a lot of work to…" he decided to change his direction, "You know Akamori. She doesn't like being held back from anything."

"How would the institution of marriage hold one back?" Byakuya asked persistently, to Renji's extreme surprise. Kuchiki usually ended his arguments with silence, or 'I see' at the very most. Now he seemed more determined.

"I've never been married, so I have no clue." Renji decided to abandon respect for the sake of his side of the dispute.

Byakuya appeared affronted. "Well, it seems to me that one has to be married to know what it is like."

"Fascinating," Renji murmured.

Byakuya glared at him with a burning anger. "Do not be sarcastic on a matter like this. My daughter's virginity has already been taken by you, and as such—"

Renji moaned. "Oh, Christ. I don't want to go there with you."

The other man's eyebrows arched furiously. "What did you say?"

Renji let out a sigh of exasperation. "Listen, Mr. Kuchiki. I've tried to get along with you for the longest time, but you're just too damn stubborn. When are you gonna get it? Akamori can do whatever she wants to, and I don't want you coming in here and stressing me out for her choices. You're my boss, and I respect that, but really. Leave stuff like this for other days." He could care less what Byakuya thought at the moment, and went on, "I know she's your daughter and all, but come on. She can't be locked up forever, and it's a little too late to still think she is. She's a grown woman and, believe it or not, she isn't stupid. So cut her some slack. Hell, cut us both some slack."

Kuchiki's scowl remained on his face for a few immeasurable moments before beginning to, very slowly, become the emotionless mask. "It's good to see that you're standing by Akamori…" he was reflective and appeared lost in his thoughts. "And I know she isn't stupid."

Renji nodded. "Far from it," he attested staunchly.

"And… it is true that…" he was having trouble admitting his mistakes, of course. "She can do whatever she wants… I apologize. I've misjudged you, Abarai." His eyes darted back to Renji from the floor.

The redhead's face seemed numb. "…A… well, erm, thanks…" he felt thunderstruck. Byakuya Kuchiki had apologized for something he'd done wrong. Next thing he knew, there would be monkeys in the House of Representatives.

"How is your daughter?" Byakuya asked, his eyes thawing out the slightest bit.

Renji was glad for something that would end the awkwardness and get him talking again. "Fine, really."

Byakuya looked faintly impish. "What was her first word?"

"She… well, she hasn't said anything yet," he said, trying to remember any instances in which she had spoken, but all he could come up with were gurgles and baby talk. "She's only about a month old, sir."

"She'll speak soon," Kuchiki stated, seeming very convinced of this fact. "All children in my family speak early."

"All right," Renji muttered, trying not to entertain the fact that he was an extension of the Kuchiki family. To him, Akamori existed outside of that niche. "What are you doing over the holiday, Mr. Kuchiki?"

"I am spending time with Hisana, and most likely Rukia…" he blinked. "Have you heard from her?"

"Yeah, she was at our house not that long ago. And her friend, Ichigo, too."

"Ichigo Kurosaki? Hisana has told me stories about her. She seems to be a put-together girl, wouldn't you agree?"

"Girl?" Renji said, bewildered, but then remembered something Akamori had said. _Dad's got the idea that Ichigo's a girl. Don't ruin this for Rukia or I'll skin you. _She had smiled after the threat, though. "Yeah, Ichigo's …polite."

"She seems to care about Rukia, too. I'm thankful… but when will I meet this Ichigo? I meet all of Rukia's friends. I make sure they are not delinquents."

_Jeez, stalker much? _"Well, Ichigo kind of runs a tight schedule, h—she's got two siblings and is in… a lot of sports," Renji rounded off, "Softball, basketball… you name it…" he was wondering how Rukia would get out of this, but for now he wouldn't wreck it.

"Ah, she has another friend like that," Byakuya mused. "Tatsuki, I believe." He looked at the clock. "In fact, now I think you should leave."

Renji blinked. "Huh?"

"Your vacation," his boss reminded, "only lasts so long. If I were you, I would take advantage of this opport—"

Renji had his briefcase and coat in seconds. "Bye, sir," he said in a rush in his sprint for the door, "Nice talk."

* * *

_Trouble is her only friend.  
And he's back again._

* * *

"Orihime, you can't pull that hard on my head!" Rukia shrieked as Orihime tugged a large paddle brush through the raven locks. The redhead ignored her heated complaints and kept pulling, humming a blissful tune that sounded suspiciously like, 'I've Been Working on the Railroad.'

"Only another two hours," Orihime said, "and you can put your dress on!"

"At least I can take off this robe. It's like a sweatbox," she commented darkly, staring at her sweat-coated hands. At this rate she would have to take another shower. Rukia had been shoved into a tall blue chair, been blindfolded, and was now being recreated as a beauty queen, or so Orihime had said. She was only allowing this reconstruction because Toshiro and the rest of the Dance Committee would be armed with cameras, and she wouldn't put it beneath Ichigo to poke fun at one of those bad pictures she was always caught in. Plus, Orihime didn't seem too inept with beauty. It would be wise to let her use Rukia as a guinea pig, because she might've gone to Tatsuki as a backup. And Tatsuki only looked good in sweats.

It wasn't often that Rukia thought of Tatsuki, because as much as she hated to admit it—even to herself—it was painful. Tatsuki had gotten jealous over nothing, but then, Rukia hadn't been the best friend in the world to her. Ichigo was something new, he was… well, she had never really had a guy friend at that point. Now that she looked back on it, Rukia felt foolish for deserting her friend. But if she hadn't… Ichigo would still be in her life… he was going to show up whenever he was, so there was no way to stop the inevitable. Tatsuki might have been the sour one… but Rukia didn't know. She put it out of her mind when Orihime started speaking.

"Rukia, I think you're a spring," she said brightly. "You look nice in mild colors."

"Thank you," Rukia said with a smile. With Orihime, the most irrelevant things were compliments. "I like mild colors, myself, but I don't think about makeup all that often."

"You should, you're so pretty," her friend said sweetly.

"Thanks," Rukia murmured. "I don't think I'm as pretty as Akamori, though."

"You're just as pretty! Just a different kind. I don't think one sibling can be prettier than the other one. They have the same looks, but they're just placed differently."

Rukia blinked as Orihime began to run a straightening iron through her hair. "I never thought of it that way."

Orihime smiled again, this time applying some kind of mousse to Rukia's head. "Sure! Your face is very cute. You don't think about it much, I can tell, but you're one of the prettiest people I know!" Orihime seemed very sure of herself, and try as she did, Rukia couldn't suppress a grin.

"Thanks, Orihime. That means a lot to me."

"Yep!" The redhead was back to her work now. Rukia was glad of it. Despite her intense care for Orihime, she tended to talk peoples' heads off, and Rukia wasn't patient. She glanced at her dress. It was a luminous blue minidress with sheaths of lace flowing over it. Hisana had called Orihime and told her of the requirements for Rukia in size, and Orihime had bustled off without a word to the younger Kuchiki. It was just as well.

"Hey, do you wear cream blush?"

"Sure," Rukia said, unsure of what cream blush was.

"Good. I think I'll try 'Frosted Rose' on you."

"All right." Rukia sighed.

* * *

_Where flowers gaze at you.  
They're not the only ones who cry when they see you._

* * *

"Ah, but I am sorry," said the salesgirl in a deep Russian drawl, "You are quite too small for this tuxedo. Childrens' section is very—"

"I am not a child!" Toshiro's voice was a snap.

He eyed himself in the mirror. The sleeves hung at least five inches past his fingers, and the sea of tuxedos on the floor was growing girthier with each passing second. His forehead was lined with perspiration.

Ichigo, who was leaning on the dressing room door, smirked. "She's right, tiny. You should get a smaller size." He himself had snagged the perfect tuxedo from the mens' section just a few minutes prior, and was thrilled by the prospect of tormenting the less-than-lanky Toshiro. Ichigo had agreed to go suit-shopping in lieu of much harassment from Rukia, who had told him not to look like a hobo. Ichigo had always frowned when he thought about that—did he look homeless on a regular basis or something? If so, that would not be the case tonight. Toshiro had told Ichigo that to impress a Kuchiki, one needed to _be _Kuchiki. Ichigo had asked him why he had said that, and Hitsugaya had shaken his head and mumbled about tinsel.

He didn't have any concrete plans for the night, like who to dance with. Ichigo was a reasonable dancer, but he disliked being put on the spot, so he would probably stand around and drink punch all the time. Rukia would most likely wind up dancing with someone—she was short, but seemed to cause a lot of double-takes. This shouldn't have bothered him, but that didn't stop the jealousy. Rukia was his best friend, and… he didn't really want her involved with anyone. It just wasn't like her…

Toshiro was suddenly back in his uniform. "Let's go to the …Children's section…" he growled. Ichigo's worried expression was replaced by a smug one right on time, so he just followed the elfin man across the store.

Ichigo was perusing the shelf when he bumped into Ishida, who was standing near the door.

"Kurosaki, be aware of your body," he said.

"Shut up, Four-Eyes. What are you doing here?" the orange-head demanded, wondering what Ishida would be doing in the Childrens' section… unless he had kids, which was highly unlikely given his personality.

"I'm picking up Orihime's dress. She ordered it from Tokyo," Ishida explained.

Ichigo blinked. "You're going to the dance with Orihime?" he couldn't imagine a more unlikely couple.

Ishida bit his lip. "I am not involved with her. She needs to get her dress taken out near the top."

"Oh, right. Top-heavy. My mistake," Ichigo said, turning his attention back to the numerous tuxes. "Now, what's Toshiro again… a 2, I think…"

Ishida looked appalled. "You're going with Hitsugaya?" he said, horror-struck.

Ichigo nearly strangled him. "Why the hell would I go with—what are you on, Uryu?"

"Nothing recently," Uryu assured him. "You sounded as if you were buying a tuxedo so you could go to the dance together. Have you already bought yours?"

"It's at the front," Ichigo said absentmindedly, combing through the tuxedos. _Rukia, save my soul. Why did I do this again? _All he would find were sizes 3 and up! Damn Hitsugaya and his miniature genes. How was he short, anyway? Byakuya's sister was his mom, right… oh, duh. Father. "So, what are you wearing, Uryu?"

"I am wearing a white suit," Uryu said sagely, looking a bit more presumptuous than was justified. "I intend to stand out in the crowd."

"Yeah, as if you don't already," Ichigo muttered.

Uryu frowned but said nothing. "Anyway, I should be leaving. Creativity doesn't cater to procrastination."

"Which is why I shouldn't be talking to a jackass while I'm doing Rukia a favor. Get away, Ishida, you're blocking the shelf." Ichigo sighed.

The dark haired teen let out a pretentious scoff and stalked off, possibly toward the nearest bookstore. Ichigo shook his head in irritation and continued to peruse the shelves, but just as before, nothing fit Toshiro.

"Kurosaki," Toshiro said about fifteen minutes later. "I've found one."

Ichigo turned to see him in a tux that seemed to fit, but the sleeves were rolled up. "I guess that's as good as it gets," he allowed, jerking his head toward the front. "Get up there and pay for it, I've got stuff to do today."

* * *

_I'll overcome the thousands of nights and go meet you now.  
There is something that I must tell you.  
_

* * *

"Rukia, I'm done!" Orihime declared, her face deeply proud—of what, Rukia was afraid. She hadn't looked at herself since they had begun… what if she looked like some good-girl-gone-harlot? Byakuya would commit murder in the first degree if the cameras came out during this dance. But she sat rigidly in her seat and waited while Orihime ran off in search of a mirror in her cluttered dormitory. It was then that Rukia wondered where Tatsuki was. Maybe she had gone to Ryou's to get ready.

Rukia heard much noise as Orihime tore apart her bathroom. She wondered why there were no mirrors on the walls, which would make things about a hundred times easier. Rukia's face didn't feel heavy as it usually did when she wore makeup, which calmed her nerves a little. Akamori tended to smear a lot of heavy stuff on her face, most of which she didn't need. Rukia knew that thinking of Akamori now would not help her self-esteem, so she ceased.

Orihime arrived with a rather small handheld mirror. "It was all I could find," she explained, but immediately looked hopeful. "I really worked hard on you, Rukia, please don't—"

"Orihime," Rukia said, eyeing herself in the mirror, "I'm perfect."

Her complexion was pearlier than usual, and if Rukia didn't know any better, she would say that she glowed faintly. Her eye makeup was beautiful but chaste, and her lips were so exquisite they resembled candy. Her hair fell in loose waves all around her face, all of its usual poofiness gone. Was this really _her_? It didn't seem possible at all. Rukia thought for a moment about Cinderella, and how she had better make the best of tonight before she turned back into a pumpkin.

Orihime was squealing with happiness, bouncing on her toes. "Thank you! Thank—thank you, Rukia!" words seemed beyond Orihime right now. The redhead's own hair was in curlers, and she seemed completely ready, but she was still in sweats.

"W..well, where's your dress?" Rukia asked, her own appearance being pushed into the corner of her mind.

"Oh, well, Uryu should be here with it any minute! And Ichigo, too!"

Rukia's stomach did a back flip. Ichigo? Ichigo had only seen her as Octopus-Head Kuchiki, not New Pretty Rukia. Then again, she thought, it was Ichigo, and he probably wouldn't even notice the difference.

Orihime broke her thoughts. "If I can't find Frosted Rose, then how can I do Michiru's makeup when we get there? She doesn't have any with her… oh…" Orihime seemed to be troubled.

"Why don't I help you look for it?" Rukia offered.

"Well, Rukia, you can, but I don't think we'll find it." She let out a despondent sigh.

The shorter girl shook her head fervently. "We have to. What if Michiru wants to dance with a boy? We can't let her go without makeup." Although Rukia didn't care much for girly things, and Michiru was pretty anyway, she wanted to clear her mind of loud-mouthed, orange-haired men.

"Here it is!" Orihime said immediately, spotting it on a nearby chaise. Rukia huffed a sigh of exasperation at her bum luck and slipped on her heels—the same color as her dress, with ribbons that laced up the legs—in about three seconds. Even though it was pathetic, Rukia needed to get her mind off of Ichigo. She felt spastic and she was sweating… SWEATING, damn it! Rukia didn't care if she looked like crap. She lived with it every day. But to STINK was not on her immediate agenda. The small Kuchiki rounded on her friend.

"Do you have deodorant?"

Orihime blinked, clearly flabbergasted by the question. "Well, yeah, it's in the bath—"

"Thanks." Rukia bolted across the room, leapt over the chaise, and closed the bathroom door behind her. She faced a rather large cabinet. Upon heaving it open she spotted it at the top shelf. Antiperspirant-deodorant. Her savior.

After applying liberal amounts, Rukia shoved it back in the cabinet and opened the door. Orihime was still standing there, the awe-struck expression plastered to her face. "Are you okay, Rukia?"

"Never better!" Rukia grinned, smacking herself mentally. _Remember what Byakuya said, don't be an open book… _"I'm just a little nervous. You know how these school functions go, they're…"

"Yeah, they make me sweaty, too. Don't you just hate it? I think only boys should sweat," Orihime mused, her heather eyes skyward. After a few moments of poker-face from Rukia, she came back down to earth. "Ah, my cell phone's vibrating!"

Rukia noticed the light blue flip pattering across the table as it vibrated, but Orihime grabbed it. "Ah, it's Ichigo!" she said with a wink that confounded Rukia, just before picking up. "Hi, Ichigo!"

Luckily for her, Ichigo was rather loud in phone conversations. "Hey, Orihime. Where's Rukia?"

"Right here," Orihime replied, "You wanna talk to her?"

Ichigo sighed, as if this were a useless question. "Yeah."

Orihime grinned and passed the phone to Rukia.

"Hello?" the small girl greeted.

"Hey. You all ready? I'm giving you a ride."

Rukia bli  
;.nked. "…Well, all right then, --hey, wait! Why the sudden thaw?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, you hate school stuff. Why is it you're going to this again?"

"Well, Toshiro said he was failing Home Ec. Or something. The more people he can get to go, the more points he gets for being on the dance committee. Since he's your cousin, I figured I'd give the little guy a break."

Rukia vaguely remembered Toshiro flipping a pancake and then setting a fire in the kitchen. "Well, that was nice. More power to Toshiro." But she had an underlying feeling that Ichigo had gone to hang out with her. Hey, she wasn't complaining. "Please tell me you don't look like a hobo, Ichigo."

"What _is _it with you? Do I always look trashy or something?" he moaned.

"No, that's not it. But if I wind up in a picture with you, I—"

"Aw, come on, Rukia. It's not like you're gonna look that great."

She scoffed at him. "Thanks. I bet you just said that to cover up for something—like lousy dancing or bad breath."

"Neither of which have anything to do with me," he said, swelling with pride according to his tone.

"Ha-ha." Rukia breathed out and made sure her breath was good, so she wouldn't eat her words later. It smelled fine. "Ichigo, if you take so much delight in bad-mouthing me, then go on the Internet and complain."

"I would but complaining in real life is a hell of a lot more entertaining. Speaking of complaining, where's your cousin?" he asked.

"Beats me." Rukia hadn't seen Toshiro for a few days, actually. "Since he made the soccer team, he's always at practice."

"If sports weren't so annoying, I'd join a team."

"Ichigo? I seem to remember us talking about the dance."

He sighed. "Right. I'm out front."

Rukia felt a jolt. He had gotten there that fast? Not exactly surprising, but she had wanted a little more time to control her emotions. But you couldn't always get what you wanted. She took a deep breath and turned to Orihime. "He's here."

Orihime squealed and pulled Rukia into a bone-crushing hug. "Good luck, Rukia! Have fun! And don't forget to check your feet for stray toilet paper after you go!"

A drop of sweat hovered on Rukia's forehead. "I think I can handle it."

* * *

_And as you move on, remember me.  
Remember us and all we used to be._

* * *

Rukia actually felt pretty good as she descended the stone steps in front of the school, being careful not to twist her ankle or do other things she did when nervous. A small smile played across her lips when she spotted the shining red BMW—and a shock of orange through the window. She slowed her steps, trying to square her shoulders as she approached the car.

Before she could open the passenger door, its window rolled down. Ichigo peered at her over his sunglasses, which after a moment, he took off. The sun-lit amber eyes widened, a trismus mouth slackening. Ichigo blinked twice and tried to clear his throat. She swelled with pride as he stared at her in wonder, as if she had… suddenly become pretty? Rukia smiled on the inside.

"H-hey, Midget," he said, trying to be laissez-faire about it. "Y-you clean up good, huh?" Ichigo went a little red and his face segued back into a scowl.

"Hi, Ichigo. I can see you've avoided the hobo look, too." She eyed him, and there did seem to be a certain class that wasn't there before today. She had never really seen him in black before, and it was a good color on him. For once, Ichigo had appeared to spend a good amount of time on his hair. The orangey spikes were perfectly separated and proportioned, and she admired his loyalty to her suggestions.

"Come off it. All I did was wear cologne." He looked at the traffic jam ahead, but turned back to Rukia. She noticed a peculiar detail.

"Did you pluck your eyebrows?" she laughed.

"Shut up and get in the car." Ichigo rolled up the window.

Rukia relaxed her lips and pulled open the door, sliding comfortably into the seat. She made to look at Ichigo but spotted Toshiro in the rearview mirror. He wore a tuxedo that hung on him a bit, but was dark enough to wonderfully contrast his hair and skin. He wore extra gel in his hair, and cologne. "Hi, Toshiro."

"The Inoue girl did a good job," her cousin inspected.

The girl next to him—Rukia recognized her from the hallway as Senna Shuurin, the only girl in the Shuurin family—looked at him. "Toshi, don't say 'the Inoue girl.' Her name is Orihime and she's very nice. Hi, Rukia, I'm Senna. You look very pretty tonight." She smiled good-naturedly and extended a hand, which Rukia shook politely and smiled back. Senna was a girl just a bit taller than Rukia, with straight violet hair done up and laced with small orange flowers that matched her dress.

"Orange is your color," Rukia said.

"Thanks." Senna beamed.

"I'm surprised you didn't kill yourself on the way down those stairs, Kuchiki. I almost did," Ichigo said, as if it were impossible. "Anyway, your sister called."

"Akamori?"

"No, your other sister. Yeah, Akamori called like… ten minutes ago. I told her you were upstairs, and she said to tell you she called." Ichigo put his sunglasses back on, apparently to avert Rukia's curious gaze. "It's probably something to do with food, you know how she is, so I'd say it can wait."

"Ichigo, my sister isn't the waiting type."

Ichigo's cell phone started to ring again. Rukia's hand shot toward it but he beat her there, looking triumphant. "It's my dad, anyway," he said, showing her the glowing words, KUROSAKI ISSHIN. "Hey, what do you want?"

Rukia sat back in her seat and listened to them banter. Apparently Isshin had something very interesting and exciting to tell Ichigo, but he wanted his son to try and guess first. Ichigo didn't agree with this and said Isshin was pathetic, which seemed to upset the older man, in lieu of the despondent wail that issued from the phone.

Finally, Ichigo's eyebrows shot up. "Again? Wow. All right, I'll tell her. Bye. I said bye. No!" he sighed. "I'm telling you, old man, I'm hanging up this phone. You're making us look like some pathetic couple who fights over who's going to hang up first. All right."

Ichigo pushed the END button so hard his knuckles turned white. "God, he embarrasses me."

Rukia nodded softly. "Right, so what is it he wanted to—I mean, what is it he said?"

"Renji and Akamori are over at the clinic," he said.

"All right, whatever, just what did he say?" Rukia grumbled.

"Renji knocked your sister up again," Ichigo smirked, making it sound like no big deal. Rukia felt her jaw drop.

"It's only been what—three months since Chihiro?!" she exclaimed, her eyes like bright blue stones. Rukia swallowed.

"I'm not surprised. What with them having sex every two seconds, it's obvious," Toshiro said inconsequentially, pulling a drag on his cigarette, "I expect at least thirteen kids from them. Oh, all of those children marching in a line at the wedding, if there's even a wedding." He flicked it out the window, and Senna blinked.

"I take it you don't like Akamori much?" she asked inconsequentially.

"No, no, she's my cousin, of course I like her. As much as possible. But she's just… I don't know. It's like her personality—"

"Hey, that's _Rukia_'s sister. Watch your mouth," Ichigo snapped, and Toshiro was silent. "I don't think you're in a place to criticize, smartass."

Toshiro frowned but decided against speaking. Rukia just reveled in the fact that Ichigo wanted to keep Toshiro from insulting her family, which he seemed to forget that he was part of. The orange-haired man's face did not change.

"Ichigo, we could always just walk to the dance. Why do we need the car? It's right on the other side of school," Senna said, pointing.

"Senna, you're forgetting that it's friggin' cold. And besides, knowing Rukia, she'd want to arrive in style." He said the last two words with the lightest seasoning of mockery, but Rukia caught it and decided to ignore his jibe.

Senna heaved a sigh. "Ichigo, at this point, it'd be faster to walk." She stared warily at the traffic, her dayglow eyes reproachful, and Toshiro nodded.

"Really, Kurosaki. Is there any need to even use the car?" he said bitterly.

"Shut up, Hitsugaya, and get out if you want," Ichigo said, his frown intensifying. As it happened, he seemed to be contemplating something himself. Rukia could easily decipher it.

"You want to get out of the car, too," she reminded him, smiling a little at his shell-shocked face. After a few moments of staring at Rukia in a strange way, he nodded and smiled wryly. "Let's just get out."

"Good," Rukia said, satisfied. "I was starting to think I had something on my face."

"I wouldn't be surprised, but you don't," Ichigo smirked. Rukia bit back the retort that sprang to her lips and opened the car door.

"Holy shit, it's cold!" Ichigo exclaimed, making his way toward Rukia but stopping, and reposing his face. "Of course, you probably have a fur coat somewhere, right?"

"No, my dad does," Rukia said coolly. "Just like a Russian Cossack. Anyway, where's Orihime? She said she would be out soon." Rukia felt guilty for letting Orihime spend so much time on her appearance and then neglect her own, and her makeup felt a lot heavier on her face. Somehow, though, his scowl reassured her, brought back the memories of their summer, and reminded her how Orihime would always be happy, no matter what.

"It's not that," Toshiro was saying nearby, "She went with Izuru, you know, Senna. I'm not being mean to her."

"Yeah, but you didn't tell her you were going with me."

"Momo isn't my keeper, you know, I can do what I want. And if it's a dance with you, I--"

"Calm down, Toshi. Don't get all worked up, it makes you look bad," Senna said crisply, straightening her back and walking toward the intended destination. Toshiro blinked for a moment then hurried after her, trying not to look flustered.

"Your cousin's got some issues," Ichigo said, "But he can be all right," he allowed, taking in her sullen expression. Worry spasmed across his face. "Hey, K-Kuchiki, what's wrong with you?" Ichigo had never been good at dealing with other peoples' pain, she knew that, but she was in a rather foggy mood now. "Look, I'm sorry I said that to Toshiro," he sighed, "I just--"

"It's not Toshiro," Rukia sighed. "It's just that, I've never really been to a dance before. I'm a little irritated." In truth, this wasn't the real reason. She couldn't say, _Ichigo, I feel like I need you to be with me all the time, and it's freaking me out! _"I'll be fine."

Ichigo knew her too well to be truly convinced, but that seemed to satisfy him. He smiled darkly. "Let's get in there and get this over with, all right?"

"Okay." The younger Kuchiki child sighed and strode across the pavement with her best friend, trying hard not to trip--the pavers must have gotten distracted while they were working, she guessed, but Ichigo seemed completely at ease on his much larger feet. What the hell?

"Happy about your next niece or nephew? And your new sister?" Ichigo questioned, trying to make small talk.

"I guess. There are too many babies in my family lately." What with Chihiro coming just a few months prior to that, and Hisana's baby coming early next month, Rukia had had enough of the small children. But obviously that wasn't the case with her sister and her lover. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about Akamori right now. She tends to make me nervous."

"Don't get nervous, it's only a dance. And even if they do break out the cameras... well, Midget, Orihime did a good job on you," Ichigo said grudgingly, and when she tried to meet his eyes, they were on the sky. "Moon's nice."

"That's what you said last summer exactly," Rukia said, remembering. "Do you have some kind of moon complex?"

"I love the moon," he said absentmindedly. "It always gives me something good to think abou--great, now I sound cheesy." Ichigo rolled his eyes at his own words and turned to her. "What, you don't like the moon?"

"I like it too, I just prefer the sun. It's less sad," she said. "When sadness can be avoided, you should avoid it. I like the sun better."

"I think it's better to face emotions," he said matter-of-factly.

"Well, you're annoying, Ichigo, and talking about planets is boring me." Rukia sniffed.

"Neither the sun nor the moon are planets."

"Whatever!" Rukia rolled her eyes and made to shove her hands in her pockets, but cursed inwardly when she remembered that she was in a dress. "Anyway, when did you get so philosophical? Over this past week, you've been downright weird."

Ichigo sighed. "I've got a lot on my mind, Rukia."

"You... you actually called me Rukia," she said, amazed.

"I call you Rukia all the time. Rukia."

"No, you usually call me 'midget'. Or just 'you'. Or 'Kuchiki.' Anything that doesn't require respecting me," she explained, tucking a stray strand of raven hair behind her ear.

"Everyone calls you Rukia," he said, "And Midget fits you."

"What makes you so different? My family calls me Rukia, why can't you?" Rukia was wondering why she was going so far with this. _It's just your name. Come off it, Rukia, you're being really insensitive. _"By the way, we've talked about it before. I'm not a midget. I'm short, fun-sized, elfin, diminuative--whatever. Not my fault. Blame my mom."

"Mom," Ichigo repeated.

Some crickets chirped in the distance, and Rukia wondered what they were still doing here in the wintertime, but it didn't matter. His scowl was gone, replaced by a soft expression that he had only worn once--back when she was leaving to go and see Chihiro for the first time, but different somehow. A little more sad than that. Suddenly she realized. "Oh, Ichigo, I didn't mean to bring that up."

"Nah," he said. His voice was gentle. "If Mom were here, she would be attacking us with cameras, and Dad would have a field day." His mouth segued into a small, barely-there smile. "If my mom knew you, I bet you'd get along."

Rukia looked at Ichigo with a consternation she never had before. He was thinking about his mother and Rukia being friends. The thought filled her to the brim with warm, fuzzy feelings. "Thanks, Ichigo."

"She argued with me, just the same way you do. But everyone argues with me, so, yeah." He appeared to be out of mileage on the subject, and his eyes flitted to his watch. "Crap, Rukia, we'll be late and Toshiro'll shit himself."

"I know," Rukia sighed. "Let's go."

* * *

_No regrets, they're useless, in my mind, she's in my heart._

* * *

"Damn. These Committee people did a good job."

The school's ballroom was decked out completely in the glimmering garlands and blooming Christmas flowers Rukia had purchased, as well as a large amount of mistletoe sprigs. Music was flowing comfortably throughout the room. "You said it," she murmured, eyeing a cluster of dark wood tables in the corner. "Let's?"

"Yeah," Ichigo agreed, moving along the wall so as not to be trampled by the many students. Orihime had said that there would be a full house, and she had been right. Eventually the twosome were sitting at the table nearest the window.

"Ooh, cake," Rukia said as soon as she sat, noticing the rather large platter of pastries in front of her. She picked a small white one and plopped it in her mouth. "Mm, cherry," she said thickly. The atmosphere of the huge room was enchanting, very beautiful. She had to hand it to Toshiro and the rest of them. But if it hadn't been for Byakuya's generous donations, none of it would have been possible. Rukia decided that she would be labeled a snob if she took all the credit, so she had kept her mouth shut about the whole thing.

_Watch your mouth, because your speech is slurred enough, that you just might swallow your tongue._

"I like this song," she said inadvertantly, her foot tapping a little to the beat. Ichigo looked a little wary of his surroundings, but pulled a blue pastry from the platter. He busied himself with eating it slowly.

Senna danced over and plopped down in the seat next to Rukia. "Hi, Rukia. Having fun?"

"I just got here, but I am having fun, thank you," Rukia smiled. She figured it was best to be nice to Toshiro's love interest. "Where's--"

"He's in the bathroom getting sick. It must be something with the punch, since he's the only one who had any of it. Apparently Uryu wanted most of it, but he's upstairs in bed now. Sick."

"Oh." Rukia's eyebrows shot up. The punch? Well, Uryu and Toshiro must not have liked raspberry very much. "They'll be okay," she assured her violet haired friend, who looked a little upset, staring into Toshiro's forgotten cup forlornly. "Hey, Senna, he'll be okay, you know him." She didn't know the Shuurin sister, but Rukia wanted to wear a happy face. Senna looked on the edge of tears.

"And he upset Momo for nothing," she sighed. "I-I'll see you later, Rukia, I'm going to powder my nose," she stammered, hurrying off into the throng.

Rukia frowned a little, remembering Senna and Toshiro's conversation earlier. Where was Momo, anyway? They had said something about Izuru...? Nearby, she saw a door open, revealing her worse-for-wear cousin. His white hair was off in wild-directions, and his eyes were tinged with red. He looked like he was going to cough up Disney World. "Toshiro?"

He frowned and walked off into the crowd, ignoring her completely.

Ichigo had finished his pastry.

"What bit him in the ass?"

"I don't know, Ichigo. Watch your language," she reprimanded, "All you've done lately is cuss."

"Oh, I apologize for affronting Miss Kuchiki's ego." Ichigo rolled his eyes, but sobered up after three seconds or so. "What's happening with the punch?"

"I have no clue. He has a weak stomach, that's probably all it is," she tried, more to herself than her orange-haired friend.

"And Uryu?"

"Uryu confuses me to no end, Ichigo, you know that." Rukia felt herself getting antsy. "Besides, where _is _Orihime? I haven't seen her all night." She was more than worried now. Orihime usually called when something came up.

"Rukia, she may be a ditz, but Orihime's not stupid. She'll take care of herself, whatever happens," he assured her.

"Right," she said quietly.

_We're burning down the highway skyline, on the back of a hurricane, that started turning when you were young._

Rukia sighed and closed her eyes. This dance, she had thought earlier, wouldn't be so bad. And it really wasn't. But the fact that Orihime wasn't here, and that Toshiro was sick, and that Senna was upset, was stopping her from enjoying it like she should.

A voice came through the din. "Rukia?"

She blinked at the person in front of her. "Tatsuki?"

Her former friend stood in a knee-length mauve dress and heels, her raven hair accentuated with purple crystal earrings. Overall, the effect was quite nice. Her wine-colored eyes were a little sad. "Can I talk to you?"

Rukia's heart leapt at the prospect of talking to her old friend again. "Sure, of course, Tatsuki." She hurried to clear a chair for her friend, but Tatsuki got one on her own and sat down next to Rukia. She glanced at Ichigo.

"Hey, Ichigo," she said casually.

"Hey, Tatsuki," Ichigo said, as if the whole birthday-party thing had never happened. "What's up?"

"Not much. You having fun?"

"Sorta." He took a gulp of Dr. Pepper and turned his attention to the dance floor, watching the other students. His eyes glazed over with disinterest within a minute and he got back to the food.

_You play forgiveness, watch it now, here he comes_.

"So," Tatsuki said, her voice a little shaky. "How are you, Rukia?"

"Um, I'm okay. Just... the music's loud and all." Rukia was more focused on her friend, and why she was here. She feared that they would have another argument in Ichigo's midst, and started to sweat a little. "A-and you?"

"I'm okay... look, Rukia. I came over here because... well, sorry about what I did at the party. That wasn't right, I was being stupid." She shook her head, as if to put shame upon herself.

"You're right." Rukia's eyes roved over Ichigo. "It _was_ stupid. He was really guilty over it." Her voice was laced with involuntary contempt, but she did feel happy about Tatsuki's apology.

Tatsuki looked sad. "...What?"

"I could see it in his eyes for a while." She remembered Ichigo, the way he was after the party, the remorseful look he had worn. It hadn't been obvious, and she had seen it then, but it had taken until now for it all to settle in.

"And I'm sorry I've ignored you this whole time. I've been a bitch, Rukia, and... Orihime's been telling me I should apologize for the longest time. I guess that was the one thing I couldn't find enough guts to do." Tatsuki gave a wry look and shrugged her shoulders. "You forgive me?"

"It'll take time." Rukia smiled quietly at her and looked over at Ichigo, who was watching the scene attentively now. She wondered what had caught his attention, since he was out of general earshot.

Tatsuki smiled, but stopped abruptly when someone tapped on her shoulder. They looked up to see a tall guy with ataxic bright blue hair and teal eyes. Around said eyes were markings somewhat reminiscant of a panther. Apparently he had decided that he would be the only guy there to wear a white suit.

"Wanna dance?" he said in a slightly rough tone.

"Sure," Tatsuki said, sending one last smile Rukia's way. "Bye, Rukia." She then proceeded to run off with the strange blue-haired guy, whom she'd seen around school once or twice. He was an upperclassman.

"Someone for everyone, I guess," Ichigo put in.

"Yeah." Rukia stared at her Cola.

And then...

Somehow at that moment, her eyes came up to meet Ichigo's.

The amber rondures were silent and stock-still, and her own were the same. As much as she would argue internally with herself, Rukia found that she couldn't now. All was well in the mind of Rukia Kuchiki, and the Strawberry's head jerked toward the dance floor.

She nodded, not feeling hesitant or doubtful at all. When she stood, there was no tripping or falling or looking stupid. It was like the world had somehow frozen, except for her, Ichigo, and the music. She didn't have time to wonder about anything, to second-guess herself. There was nothing else.

Ichigo's hand met hers, and he grinned. "Never thought you'd dance with me, huh?" he said. Rukia smiled a full, sincere smile, the one she only wore when she was most happy.

"No, I didn't!" she grinned. Ichigo smiled and the thoughts of unhappiness she had felt earlier subsided. It was so rare that he ever smiled at her, and now, it was the most beautiful one she'd ever seen from him. The ultramarine eyes met the terra-cotta ones as the last riff from the song faded off, and a quiet new one began.

_If you're not the one, then why does my soul feel glad... today?_

Inside of Rukia now was a glorified, bustling feeling. Euphoria--that was the word. She was euphoric. She just loved _being _with Ichigo. There was no silliness of a crush, no anxiety... she was in her element with him.

_If you are not mine, then why does your heart return my call? If you are not mine, would I have the strength to stand... at all?_

Rukia remembered that blisteringly hot day at the pool, when she had first met Ichigo. He had been babysitting Yuzu, and she had wandered away from Orihime and Tatsuki... the day would stand forever in her memory, she knew. She had lost her panties... but then he had saved them. She smiled, trying to remember the things she'd said to him, when they hadn't even known each other.

_I don't want to run away, but I can't take it, I don't understand... if I'm not made for you, then why does my heart tell me that I am?_

For a moment, Ichigo was afraid that this was all a dream again. That he would wake up in three minutes to Isshin yelling, and he had never met Rukia... the thought sent a spasm of pain down his conscience. But she was here now, with him, his best friend... his only real friend...

He twirled her and kept thinking. What would life be like... if he had never met this short girl, the one who bugged him about everything, but knew everything about him? He felt sometimes... the only other person who had known him that well was his mother, and she had died. If he lost Rukia, all would end. Souls like hers were rare...

_If you're not for me, then why does this distance maim my life? If you're not for me, then why do I dream of you... as my wife?_

Rukia felt herself smile again as Ichigo dipped her, a look of quiet bliss in his eyes. He was happy, and all she ever wanted was for him to be happy. It completed her.

_'Cause I miss you, body and soul so strong that it takes my breath away, a__nd I breathe you into my heart and pray for the strength to stand today,  
Cause I love you, whether it's wrong or right, though I can't be with you tonight, know my heart is by your side..._

She thought of his mother, and how he missed her. Rukia missed her father, too, though he was alive... he had never been there at all. Ichigo was the rock she clung to in the storm, where her mother couldn't help her, and Akamori couldn't help... there was no real way to explain her feelings when it came to him. She had gone over it before, in her head, late at night, thinking... why Ichigo? Why? The answer was simple. Their souls had somehow found counters in the other. Equals in spirit.

She reveled in him, simply.

_And I hope you are the one I share my life with, and I wish that you could be the one I die with..._

Rukia's eyes met Ichigo's again, and he smiled a little. To think that his smile came so easily when she was around... because she lit him up somewhere, she figured, on the inside, and it was mutual.

_I hope I love you all my life..._

The song faded off, and couples around them stopped dancing. Rukia's eyes wandered across his face, looking for something there, and was unsure of what it was. His face was relaxed, happy, and ultimately fulfilled. And the only thing left to complete their one perfect evening together...

Ichigo's arms moved up to hold her shoulders, as he arched his back to lean down, and softly touch their lips together.

The kiss was short but rapturous. The feeling of Ichigo's lips against Rukia's set off beautiful fireworks behind her eyes. Ichigo, Ichigo, Ichigo. The warmth in her head cascaded through her body. Ichigo kissed her. The sweetness of it all, and that it was happening to her, set Rukia's heart alight.

Ichigo pulled back and ended the kiss. "Merry Christmas, Rukia," he said.

* * *

**Thanks for reading this one! Gosh, it took me forever to get done, but it was worth it, huh? The song that Ichigo and Rukia danced to was, "If You're Not the One" by Daniel Bedingfield. I would so listen to it if I were you, it's the most beautiful song. :) Well, I think it's good that I cranked out a really long chapter here. Also, uhm, I don't know how to put this… but I've decided to establish review quotas now. I have 50 alerts, and 10 reviews per chapter. I **_**greatly **_**appreciate everyone who's reviewing! But, but, I need ****45**** reviews for this chapter before the next one is released. :) I intend to favorite and reply to all of my reviewers! This review quota idea has proven effective on several stories I've seen, so, yeah! Erm, if you'd be so kind, be **_**detailed **_**on what you liked about the chapter! Questions, comments, suggestions, opinions—anything's welcome! I'll wrap this up now, thank you and please review!**

_**I'm dedicating this chapter to Redsilent. Redsilent wrote great ByaHisa stories, she was very nice… and she died on February 10**__**th**__**… rest in peace, Redsilent… **_


	21. Forget, But Not Forgive

**Okay, I'm going to start the next chapter now, regardless... Oh well.  
Because, if you didn't review, it means you really don't care about other people as writers, and when they ask you to do something, you should do it, because it is their story you're reading, and they could easily stop at any time. So why not be nice and show that writer some respect? It really won't kill you to type, "I like your story!" and be done.  
That would make my day better, but you could care less, couldn't you? Sorry, you'll probably ignore this, so I'll move on for thanking the nice, considerate people who actually reviewed my chapter. You guys rule, really, thanks for that :D  
AlAnyway, I sincerely hope you like this chapter, since I am neglecting my studies to write it! We see a new couple this chapter. It's a change from what I originally planned, because, since my last update, I've grown to love this couple. They're my second favorite, now. So sit back, read, and... yeah. :)**

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

* * *

_And I could write a song, a hundred miles long... yeah, that's where I belong—and you belong with me._

* * *

As the next song began, neither noticed.

Sometimes, when things happened, all you could do was look. This was how Rukia felt—she was just looking at things. At the ceiling, at the floor, at the table. She tried as hard as she could to avoid the burning pair of amber eyes, like they were the core, and she wanted so badly to stay on the rim.

Ichigo looked down, ashamed. Maybe that had been a mistake, and he had gotten caught up in the moment... and then his emotions had gotten out. With this realization, the orange-haired man swallowed autonomously. His hands were still on Rukia's shoulders. But she wasn't saying anything about it, so was it okay? He sure hoped so. With every passing moment, his heart beat a little faster, as he kept remembering what he had just done. He had _kissed _Rukia Kuchiki. It was like, in his mind, everything around Rukia was a little numb. Even she herself, a bit. His head kept spinning, and he was afraid it would veer off-course.

The air in her lungs was still nonexistent, even a minute later. This irked her greatly. Usually, Rukia got over Ichigo's actions within a few seconds. But this only seemed to get harder as time went on. She exhaled and found the breath ragged.

"Sorry," Ichigo muttered, his face red and furrowed. "If you didn't want me—"

"Of course I wanted you to, stupid. I'm just mad anyway." She closed her eyes and arced her neck upward in a motion of contempt, and he scoffed a little.

"So you're pissed because you wanted me to do something?"

"Yes. That's precisely what I'm getting at." She was lapsing into Byakuya-speech, as she did when she was flustered, because it usually helped her calm down. As much as her father annoyed her, he was a good pacifier in panicked moments. "I'm not going to try and explain it to you, Ichigo, because all you'll do is dissect it to the bone, and I'll be even more upset."

Ichigo sighed without opening his mouth, it seemed. "I know that, Rukia. Just don't act like I did something dumb."

"It wasn't dumb. It was a good coda to the song." Rukia swallowed.

"The _song_? Seriously.

She puckered her lips in defiance. "It was a joke, you uptight orange." In moments like these, Rukia usually came armed with a million little sarcastic quips to use whenever she saw fit. Now they were gone. "I... well, you know."

"I know what?"

"Be quiet." She flushed. "I have nothing to say."

Ichigo's eyes fell to his feet. "Me either."

The air seemed to get warmer now, as did Rukia's entire body. She wished something would get her back to her element, to being comfortable with Ichigo, as she'd used to be. She'd always wondered what kissing him was like, and she hadn't been disappointed... but it did scare her. Rukia didn't like being scared.

She didn't want to ruin things with Ichigo, and the very notion left her looking upon a barren life, as if she were having an out-of-body experience. She was pale, stalwart, and married to a faceless man, with whom she had many faceless children. Blank. They needed faces. Every last one of them.

As she tried to wheedle through those emotions, Toshiro skulked past her, quite alone, his hands in his pockets. David Usher's 'Brilliant' started, and she looked at Ichigo, a frown creasing her features.

"Do what you want," he said, face still red.

She took note that his hands were trembling on her shoulders, and thoughts of her cousin were swept from her mind. "Ichigo, you look sweaty."

He blinked in rapid succession, and swallowed, his Adam's apple quivery. "N-No, I'm okay, Kuchiki. It's just hot in here, is all. Hot." Then, his fingers were firm on her shoulders, but not in a controlling way. It was more like he was holding on for dear life.

"Jeez, Ichigo, don't have a conniption. If you're, like, upset by kissing me—"

He rolled his eyes. "Come _on, _Rukia. I thought we already established that I wasn't upset."

Rukia arched a raven brow, feeling a smirk pull at her lips. "We never established anything of the sort. What are you saying, Ichigo? Are you saying that you liked it?"

His face, she could tell, was aflame. "No! No way! Don't you ever talk like that! No way, no way. You're a—a midget!" he hastily pulled his hands away and put them in his pockets, eyes darting around the room for something else to focus on.

Rukia couldn't help but smile on the inside, but for now, she didn't want to go in on the subject any more. Toshiro was up to something, she knew, and Hisana—well, more likely Byakuya—would kill her if he dabbled in any unflattering shenanigans. Or, that's how her dad would put it.

She pondered. Toshiro was one for drugs, but he would do those in her presence, and not think twice. He had seemed pretty drunk, clomping past her like that. He was probably going to bed, she thought. That was probable.

Placebo's 'Drag' blasted across her brain, and Rukia was sweating again. Weighing her options, she decided that Toshiro could fend for himself.

_You're always ahead of the game... while I drag behind..._

"Ichigo."

He was standing by the punch table, sweat dripping down his neck. "Yeah?"

She tapped him on the shoulder. "Let's go back to the dorm, I'm tired." The idea appealed to her, the thought of her nice, warm bed... mm.

Ichigo looked relieved. "Yeah. I feel like passing out."

* * *

_You are the only thing that's ever crossed my mind ; I ask why, can't you even look straight into my eyes?_

* * *

Orihime tried to hold in her shivers as she sat outside, trying to escape the colors and noise of the inside. She had been okay for the first half an hour or so, but overstimulation had come quickly. She had looked desperately for a bathroom or something, but they were all upstairs.

"Orihime," said a voice. It was Tatsuki, wearing an impish smile.

Orihime smiled, unable to help herself. "Hi, Tatsuki. Are you having fun?"

The dark haired girl grinned. "Yeah, I met this guy... well, you really don't know him, so..."

She knew that this was an invitation to hear all about it. "Oh, I want to, tell me!"

"His name's Grimmjow, he's a sophomore. He rocks like hell, I've been having a lot of fun." Her best friend wore a grin that would rival a wild cat's, and the redhead was glad of it. Tatsuki continued, "He played a prank on some of us freshmen. Just stay away from the punch bowl."

Shocked, Orihime's mouth fell open. "Toshiro got sick! Grimmjow doesn't sound like a very nice person to me, Tatsuki. He poisoned them!"

"It was just a little scotch, and it was a joke," Tatsuki shrugged it off. "Besides, Grimmjow wouldn't do it if it would really hurt them. He just likes to joke, is all."

Orihime bit her lip. It was best not to argue with Tatsuki, especially when it came to a boy. Rukia had found that out the hard way. "So, well, have you seen Ichigo and Rukia?"

"I did for a little while. You should've seen the way they were looking at each other. There was major eye sex going on there."

The taller girl almost spit out her cola. "E-eye what?!"

Tatsuki smirked. "You know. Eye sex. Where you stare at someone, long and hard. And you've gotta _want _them." She fiddled with the olive in her cup.

"Do you think Ichigo and Rukia have had sex?" Orihime whispered, the word feeling alien on her tongue. She never talked about it. Sex, she had been told by most adults, was wrong, unless you were doing it to have a baby, of course. She wondered about it a lot.

Tatsuki shook her head. "Nah, Rukia wouldn't let him. Not unless they were really, really—"

"No, stop, I don't want to hear it!" she clamped her hands over her ears autonomously, trying to block out the image in her head. A voice, blithe and at ease, repeated the sentence, and a face matched it quickly. "You sound like Rukia's sister."

"Akamori? Please. That girl's gotten so much, I don't even wanna know what she thinks about."

Orihime tapped her feet on the floor, her white dress fluttering around her ankles. All everyone talked about around her was sex. Even Rukia mentioned it! She wondered if Rukia was a virgin. _..._Was she? There was Ichigo, of course. He was so powerfully built... and he had a very well-defined face... he would be hard to resist if... Orihime went pink, trying to rid herself of these thoughts. She knew Rukia felt something for Ichigo—it was in her eyes. They sort of... glinted, faintly, when Ichigo was mentioned, as if he were the second half. Rukia had always said she felt like a half person. And that couldn't be jeopardized.

Tatsuki made a noise in the back of her throat.

"You okay, Tatsuki?" Orihime asked.

"Look to your left," Tatsuki muttered. "Some guy's staring at you."

She stayed still for a moment, a rush of childhood memories stampeding through her head. Sora had always kept her away from the lustful eyes of men, stood as a barrier between his sister and all things sexual. Now, he wasn't here.

But there was nothing wrong with a boy _staring. _It happened to her all the time, and truth be told it was a little unsettling, but one could get used to anything. Even those odd peanut-butter-and-cream-cheese sandwiches Rukia seemed to have a penchant for. Men were easy—just smile nicely, and look away. A brief thought came to her—what boy had she seen here who hadn't already taken an interest? She didn't want a boyfriend, that was for sure, but they were ready should she ever change her mind. _Which I won't. I won't, _she kept reminding herself.

Her neck feeling oddly limber, Orihime turned her head, the polite smile already etched into her lips. But it gave way to a slack shape.

The boy staring at her was unlike any she'd ever seen. He was slight in stature, thin and vitriolic, with an austere winter face. To look at him was to be bitten in the brain, she thought. And his eyes were as cold, emotionless, with catlike pupils, a shade of green that was halfway between an emerald and the sea. From the heavily lidded eyes seemed to spill tears, but they were far too artificial—like tattoos, but somehow, she couldn't see them that way. His mouth was small, in a lifeless deadpan, like the rest of him. He sat staunchly in a chair near the other door, in a black suit, looking at her with that same no-nonsense gaze. There were no feelings. Orihime forgot about Tatsuki next to her and tried to imagine what this face would look like smiling, laughing. It would not compute.

Tatsuki was rigid, too—she could see her in her peripheral vision—also amazed by the aesthetic graveness of this boy. His eyes did not sway once from Orihime, the stones, like those of a marionette's.

"Whoa, that kid is really... emo," Tatsuki said after a few minutes.

A strange desire to protect the boy sprung up within her. "I—Tatsuki, you shouldn't make labels like that."

"It's not a label, it's the truth. He's just... creepy looking."

Orihime looked back at him, and then, very slowly, he turned away, closing his eyes as he did so. It was painful, she remembered, to see him, but now, she was getting used to it... a little. He scared her, really.

But it was odd. Like, somehow, deep in his eyes, there was a hint of sadness. She had always been good at deciphering peoples' emotions, and even though she could see that he was suffering, she remained completely obtuse as to why. "He won't be happy if he hears you talking like that," she said, surprised to find her voice a murmur.

Tatsuki raised an eyebrow. "He can't hear us from over there."

"Us? You're the one who's calling him creepy." Orihime didn't mean to put Tatsuki on the spot; it was a mere fact. "Just because he can't hear you—"

"Oh, I see what it is." Tatsuki grinned. "You know that kid. You like him."

"I don't know him." Orihime glanced again at the boy, but his eyes were on the horizon. "If I did, I would've said hi." _And I... don't like him. I don't really like anyone... other than..._

"Then you've got more guts than me. I wouldn't go near him at all." And, coming from the second-strongest girl in all of Japan, that was saying something. "You've always been that way, Orihime. I think you're too nice for your own good."

Orihime felt her teeth come down on her bottom lip. _This boy, here... to him, I don't think nice matters..._

* * *

_Sometimes goodbye's a second chance._

* * *

Rukia's navy eyes came open when she heard the shower running in the bathroom, which was surprising, because it usually took a lot to wake her. She yawned a little, then smiled as she remembered what had happened the previous day. Ichigo had kissed her. The words sounded so alien, but in a good way, and when Rukia got out of bed, there was a new spring in her step.

She shuffled to the kitchen and opened the fridge, but found nothing save for a few packs of ramen noodles, since she and Ichigo rarely ate dinner here anyway. He usually picked up fast food. The short girl decided that she would wait until she got home to eat—knowing Hisana, there would be a plethora of good food. Rukia poured herself a glass of water and sat down on the sofa.

Ichigo came out of the bathroom, accompanied by a rush of steam. He wore a pair of loose black sweatpants and a white tank top.

"Hey," he said affably, hanging onto the towel around his shoulders. "How'd you sleep?"

Rukia smiled. "Fine."

Ichigo stood there for a moment, looking blank and focused on her. "...Well, that's good." He made his way into the kitchen and then stopped. "Merry Christmas," he said.

She blinked. "Oh, right. Merry Christmas, Ichigo." As the words escaped her mouth she thought of the night before, and what had happened before he had said it. It brought a smile to her face. "So, you're going home today too?"

"Yeah. Yuzu and Karin miss me." Apparently he had given up on food too, since he had sat down next to her. "And your mom and dad? They miss you?"

"That's a weird question."

"Just answer."

"I don't kn—yeah, I'm sure they do," she said, trying to think of any reason why Hisana and Byakuya would miss her. She was the child who was just _there, _the one who wasn't really singled out. But that was only because Akamori wanted the attention, and the Kuchiki family always got what they wanted. "But I'm glad I... well, never mind."

She went red.

Ichigo was, as always, persistent. "You're glad...?"

"Well, I was making an assumption, but that doesn't really work out well for me, so I'll be quiet now," she stammered, focusing on the TV screen. It was blank. "Yeah."

"Nah, Midget. Tell me what it is you were thinking." Ichigo's teak eyes were large and curious.

She sighed. "I was hoping that I could... well, I was thinking that we could run into each other, maybe, just over break?" she tried, realizing how idiotic those last few words were after she had said them.

Ichigo's lip twitched like he was going to smile, but he preferred to stay aloof. "Sure. We could do that."

"Like maybe a movie?"

Rukia knew that she was pushing her luck with this. But he was Ichigo. There was no reason he would say no.

And he didn't. "Sure. Do you know what's playing?"

She remembered something. "I think the movie theater is closed over break. And I have to have Christmas dinner with my parents and Toshiro—" she broke off as she remembered the sprightly young man, a slight shiver running down her spine.

"Well, after you do that..." Ichigo looked like he was trying to put words together as well as he could. "I mean, if you're not too busy with all your fancy presents—I mean, if your—you could come hang out at my place. My dad loves you." He rolled his eyes as he said it, but there was no denying the smile.

The idea of spending time at Ichigo's house filled her with warm, fuzzy bubbles. She hadn't spent time there, really, since his birthday party in July. She remembered, then, that she had made up with Tatsuki, and it made her even happier. "Okay. I'll come over. If I can keep up the whole 'Ichigo's a Girl' thing."

"Frankly, Rukia, I just think you should tell Kuchiki that I've got more between my legs than he thinks and then we can be done with the matter."

Rukia burst out laughing, but covered her mouth with her hand in an instant. Ichigo looked a little surprised but grinned, and she found herself in the middle of an awkward moment. Luckily, she thought of something. "Where would I sleep at your house?"

Ichigo thought it over. "Um... well, I've got futons in my closet."

"So I take them out?"

He smirked. "No, you can sleep in the closet."

"Ichigo, that's not right!" she exclaimed. "Why on earth would you—"

"'Cause it's the only way you can be in my room without being... you know. Never mind," he said, shaking his head fervently. "Besides, what's wrong with the closet? You've survived the Murphy bed just fine."

Rukia scoffed. "Oh, come on. I can not be expected to sleep in that closet!"

"You've never seen it," he contradicted.

"I know closets, Ichigo. They're not comfortable."

"Like hell. Mine, on its own, is a 2-star hotel."

"Oh, amazing, Ichigo." She stretched out on the couch, too short to even touch Ichigo, who was also sprawled out. Rukia curled her arm up behind her head, thinking over the break. She was really, really anxious to get it over with, and to restore a sense of normalcy to her high school tenure. To kiss Ichigo, and then leave school—too many changes at once.

Ichigo touched his foot to hers. "Wondering what I got you for Christmas?"

The touch made an involuntary smile creep up. She united her other foot to his, and sighed. "I wasn't really thinking about it."

His big toe tickled hers, something may or may not have been aware of. "It's pretty easy to figure out. Kinda cheesy, but you'll get over it, you always do." Ichigo yawned. "I was wondering why you hadn't asked me yet."

"Presents don't really matter to me. All I want is for people to stop being so stupid."

She ran her tongue over her chapped lips, feeling all the little sores open up.

Ichigo smiled a little. "That'll cost me at least 35.64."

She rolled her eyes and ran her big toe along the bottom of his foot. It was so rare that she ever got to touch Ichigo, and when she did, it was as if her fingers and toes were spirited away, and there was an almost irresistible urge to touch him again. Most of the time, he shook her hand off his shoulder, or started talking about something else.

Now, though, Ichigo made no move to dismiss her. His eyes were halcyon, on her, a spark of curiosity noticeable behind the contentment. Rukia touched his foot with her hand, blushing slightly, but his breath was bated as he sat, motionless.

Rukia ran her fingers across his toes, thinking about him. At this point... he _wanted _to be touched like this, by her. The kiss had made it evident, and though it pleased her, she wondered if it would hurt their friendship. But Orihime and Tatsuki hugged her all the time. What was wrong with touching Ichigo?

When she met his eyes, they were already on hers, alight with happiness. It was something she hardly ever saw, this impish face, the lucid smile, with a faint dimple in his right cheek. She felt her cheeks blazing, but it was oddly gratifying to her now. As if it were the verification that this made her feel good. _Ichigo... what have you done to me?_

The orange haired man sighed, but for once, didn't say anything. She knew that he was glad of the soft touching, too, and didn't want to ruin it with any of their useless bickering.

She moved her finger over all the little grooves, realizing that when she was alone with him, Ichigo wasn't nearly as aggressive—very calm and good-spirited, especially in moments where they were quiet—this was one of the few times. It was a bit odd to touch his foot, she thought, but anywhere was fine. Just as long as she could feel his skin, sun-darkened and unique, she would be fine with it. Other people—Akamori, her mother, Toshiro—cringed at her touch. There was no one else who would let her that close—and it had taken a long time for him to let her.

Ichigo moved slightly, and she saw his finger on her own. Rukia's vacant chest awoke, giving way to a paroxysm of surprise as he turned her hand over, gazing at her palm with humid brown eyes. No matter how much she stared at him, Rukia couldn't shake his eyes from her. She guessed that Ichigo never got to touch people, either, and she knew that she must have interested him on a foreign level—a small, pale girl, with delicate hands.

He was caressing these hands, tracing each crease on her palm intricately, as if trying to burn the image into his mind. She found that he never looked at things for very long, but something about her hand seemed to fascinate him. Ichigo craned his neck, apparently for a closer look, and their heads touched. Rukia was again engulfed in Ichigo's familiar scent, the one she'd strained herself for many times. And, she had always imagined his hair as hard, since it was spiky. But no, it was soft.

His fingers were long and thin, but more graceful than the rest of him. He was breathing slowly, sparingly, as he investigated each of her fingers, looking enthralled by them. This made Rukia blush, but he didn't notice that part. Ichigo had always been a man of one-track focus.

With that, his hand moved up a little, toward her face... and he actually blushed, ready to put it down. Too frozen to move, Rukia was silently willing him to touch her face, her body running rampant with heat. He didn't disappoint her, the long fingers trembling.

Ichigo knew what he wanted to do. Rukia had told him that she had liked kissing him—well, not in so many words. But she had. And that had fueled a strange fire within him, tepid and lustful. He should not have let it get its way. He couldn't—didn't—think of Rukia the way his senses had fooled him into thinking he had. _I don't, _he had been telling himself, so many times over the past few hours, ever since Rukia had told him that she was going home for the break. And something in him, a separate fire, had sprung. The one that wanted to protect Rukia from the other fire...

This close, his eyes were beautiful. Rukia felt his breath on her neck, dizzying and scary at the same time, and she moved closer, into the hand that held her cheek. Not for a kiss. To be close. She had found that Ichigo was the only person that she... that she liked very much.

They both jumped noticeably when Ichigo's phone blared across the silent room. His fingers slid away, and he got up, grabbing the phone from the table near the door. "Hello?"

Rukia sighed, yearning again for his touch. She was resentful of the phone.

"Yeah, Merry Christmas, Mrs. Kuchiki."

She froze. _Mom? You called... you called Ichigo? Why not me? _...It wasn't really that she felt jealous. Of course her mother would want to wish Ichigo a merry Christmas, since she would get to see her later. She simply worried about Byakuya, who was certainly in the room with his wife, and could hear her talking to Ichigo. Ichigo kept saying 'yeah', and, 'that's always good', and other generic things one said when they didn't really know the person on the other end.

He blinked about six times, taken aback by something she'd said. "I—well, do—as long as Rukia—yeah. He's my cousin." Ichigo hesitated, undoubtedly listening to Hisana prattle on about how good it was to have family nearby. "Mhm, I... probably... I'd have to ask my dad fir—you already talked to—wow." He looked at Rukia, eyebrows raised, an amused smile playing across his lips. "Okay. Thank you. I'll see you then." He nodded once, though she could not see him, and closed the phone.

Rukia wore a poker face. "What has she come up with now?"

Ichigo half-smiled, half-bit his lip. "She wants me over to eat Christmas dinner with you guys tonight."

"You're a comic genius..." she said tartly, the sarcasm veering off toward shock. Her mother had actually been so bold as to invite Ichigo to the Kuchiki Mansion... where... Byakuya! "There's no damn way you're going!"

He raised his eyebrows. "You gonna stop me?"

Rukia narrowed her eyes and got to her feet. "Of course I am! My dad—" she winced as she said the words. "My dad—"

"Is an asshole?"

"No! He... he wouldn't like you!"

As this sentence sunk in through the room, Rukia felt stupid, ugly, and very, very mean. She felt her chest lock up, and her mouth numb. Ichigo was silent, his eyes vacant, cast to the floor.

"...I know," he said.

She remembered the words her father had said to her a few months before Chihiro's birth. _Akamori is no longer a part of my life... not since she deceived me that way._

She looked at him with no particular inflection. "No. It was..." in truth, she couldn't remember whose idea it was. "All I know is.. you can't come tonight."

His face was also emotionless. "Why can't I?"

"Because. You know how things turned out with Akamori and Renji."

"They're fine, just in case you're forgetting." Usually, Ichigo would sigh and say something about what a midget she was, or that short people withheld a different sense of logic, or something else to throw her off the trail. Now, he was straight and to-the-point.

"I don't want to risk it."

"Risk what? If your dad hasn't learned from what he did before, he's even more of a jackass than I thought he was. Wouldn't really surprise me, but hey." He dropped the cell phone into his pocket.

Physically, he wanted more. Emotionally, things stayed the same. Rukia could not deny that this appealed to her; by coincidence or by design, she wanted the same things he did.

She was a teenager. There was no denying that there were three things teenagers really wanted: food, sleep, and sex. Rukia was no exception to this rule. But she had only just kissed Ichigo. She was confused as to why she wanted so much so fast, but at the same time, she had been anticipating this, on some deep level, the physical yearning. Ichigo was attractive—and she was, too, a little.

Wait, what?

As she had many times before, Rukia dismissed the tempting notions and tried to focus on the conversation. She did not know the words until they came forth. "If you want to go tonight, I won't stop you. But you had better keep away from me in front of Byakuya."

Ichigo's face remained somber. "I can't do anything now without you getting all worked up."

"It's always been that way."

"Never like this."

Those were the words that had been haunting her lately. 'Never like this'. That was the way it was with them—always changing, but always the same. It confused her. "Well, Ichigo, I hope... I hope you have fun at my house tonight. My mom will probably be all over you with the camera, so try and stay away from her. And my dad, he'll inspect you the whole time. Renji and Akamori will make weird sex jokes about us, so steer clear of them, and—well, I guess since Toshiro's a dick, Chihiro would be your best bet."

Relief made its way across his visage. "You're letting me go, then."

"I guess."

Ichigo's eyes were oddly calm. "Rukia, hey," he said. "You look like you're gonna have a hysterical fit or something."

"I—listen, Ichigo..." she looked in the direction of the door. "Do you wanna go downstairs? For breakfast?"

He looked upset for a moment – he had known very well that she didn't want to eat, but whatever made Rukia happy.. The dimple in his cheek resurfaced. "Yeah."

* * *

_Yeah, we only want to fly by the side, making love to the rhythm, be a Jekyll and a Hyde._

* * *

Fluorescent lights always annoyed Rukia early in the morning. She had put on the Christmas dress her mother had bought her—red velvet, with white pantyhose and the dreaded black heels. If she didn't wear the outfit, it would hurt Hisana's feelings. Akamori had an identical one, but she had never once worn it. Rukia intended to be on her best behavior tonight—if not for herself, for Ichigo. It was a stretch for her to even let him come to dinner—her father was extremely likely to blow a gasket.

In the lunch line, she saw Orihime and Tatsuki. Oddly, the dark-haired girl was more talkative, saying something about blue hair, and how hot it was. Orihime just kept nodding, putting a milk carton on her plate. Their faces were freshly wiped clean of all the cakey makeup most of the girls had worn the previous night. Rukia was glad to be free of it, too.

She looked around for a table, and spotted Toshiro, gazing down at a book, in his tuxedo. For once, he didn't look upset.

"Hey," she said, sliding in across the table from him. Ichigo followed suit. "Merry Christmas."

Toshiro looked up at her, unperturbed. "Merry Christmas, Kuchiki. Kurosaki." He nodded at them both in turn.

"What are you reading?" Rukia asked, interested in the calm Toshiro.

"Judgment at Nuremberg. It's better than I expected." He wet his finger and turned the page. Not looking up, he said, "Have fun at the dance?" he didn't seem all that interested, but the normal Toshiro wouldn't even have asked her. Rukia hastened.

"Of course we did. Are you still coming to eat with us today?"

"Yes, I am. I won't be with you over the rest of the break, I'm afraid. I have plans." The white-haired young man closed his book lightly and tore open his milk carton, downing it in a few seconds. With a thump, he put it down. "Senna, Izuru, Momo and I are going to the beach house."

Vaguely, Rukia remembered that Ryuusuke Hitsugaya owned a villa on the beach. Since he was in prison, and Hiroko was dead, it made a lot of sense for it to have come under Toshiro's ownership. Still, she felt a bit snubbed. Toshiro had always spent the holidays with the Kuchiki family. She smiled wryly. "That's good. I hope you have fun there."

"I plan on it."

Without warning, Senna sat down, wearing a blue dress. "Hi, Toshi," she said merrily.

Toshiro smiled mistily, as if there were some secret they shared. "Good morning, Senna." He pushed his book aside. "You know Rukia and Ichigo."

"Hey Senna," Ichigo said, chowing down on cereal.

"Hi, Ichigo. Hi, Rukia." The violet-haired girl was eating a banana. "Happy holidays, and stuff. You guys look a little shocked."

Rukia looked at Ichigo, who was eating as if it were his last meal, and realized that Senna was referring exclusively to her. "M-me? Why would I?"

Senna shrugged. "I don't know. You just look surprised by something." She bit into a turnover that Ichigo seemed oddly enamored with.

"Where did you _get_ that?" he asked incredulously, his amber eyes tightening.

Rukia sighed, glad that he was back to his normal self. It was Toshiro who was acting strange. She appraised the snowy-haired man, and could find no visible brain damage. There must have been something wired wrong in his tiny little head of evil.

"So I had an idea," Toshiro said.

"Oh, call the New York times." Ichigo started on Rukia's breakfast.

"Excuse me, Kurosaki. Let me just sit around and become gargantuan, so I'll be prepared to have a level conversation with you."

"Oh, cute." Ichigo shoved the milk back to its spot on the tray. "Fine. I won't eat. But, I'm going to have a better dinner than you are."

Rukia didn't feel as if Ichigo was trying to flatter her. He just argued a lot. She said quietly, "Ichigo, don't be impudent. Toshiro isn't mad for once. Let's not ruin that."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the white-haired boy, who was talking to Senna about his book, but looked grudgingly at Rukia's milk carton and sighed. "All right, fine. It's just that holidays annoy me, you know?"

"I know. But you were the one who wanted to come over today."

"Renji and Akamori going to be there?"

She blinked. "I think they are, if they know what day it is... you look relieved," she speculated, noting that some of the tension in his features had alleviated. "I'll be happy if they're there, too." Because Renji and Akamori knew how to take stress out of a situation and center it on themselves, whether it be by bickering or acting like idiots.

The breakfast bell rang. Ichigo slid Rukia's tray under his own and took them up to the trash cans, and sure enough, she was waiting at the stairwell for him. Before he had known Rukia, Ichigo had walked places by himself, or with Keigo and his lackeys. The Midget was just more comfortable.

They ran into Orihime and Tatsuki again in the main lobby. "Hey, Rukia," Tatsuki said, as nonchalant as before, but for some reason she ignored the orange haired man beside her friend. Puzzled, Ichigo greeted her, and she returned the favor with little enthusiasm. Rukia couldn't think with much ease right now—she just wanted to get in the car and go home.

She knew Ichigo hadn't acquired mind-reading powers, but he was very perceptive that morning. He hadn't said a word the entire time they'd been upstairs gathering their bags, and she was glad of it. Rukia wasn't really one for mood swings, but there was an exception to every rule, and even though it had to be on the holidays, she was glad of the silence.

Ichigo wasn't on the same page, though. His ability to sense her emotions had been a stint. "Have any idea about your present?"

"No, I haven't thought about it. Shut up."

One eye puckered, like a twitch, but he was too startled for that. "Jeez, Rukia. What's going on with you?"

"It's nothing. I mean that." The drumming of her fingers on the door handle was rhythmic, without fail. "I just want to get home. You can call me later."

He stared at her. "Don't blow me off. It's Christmas."

The notion appalled her a little. "I'm not blowing you off. Really, Ichigo. I just... well, I'm a teenage girl. These things are normal for me."

"What things?"

'You aren't that oblivious."

"Try me." His eyes tightened up the smallest amount.

"I'd rather not." Rukia felt anguish building up in her chest. It was the strangest sensation, but she felt...

They were quiet as they drove through town, the familiar colors of the buildings rushing past her. They only made the feeling worse, and she coined it after about fifteen minutes. The security-blanket. Being clingy. Rukia propped her head in her hand and tried for the umpteenth time to calm herself. The car itself felt sweltering to her, despite the fifteen degree weather, and her head was pounding. She felt her throat constrict.

But there was nothing. No sudden bout of vomit, no chills... nothing. Rukia frowned but was grateful to the skies above that she wasn't sick. ...Just mean? No, not mean. Sort of... affected by something unknown. She bit her lip and, feeling her teeth brush across blisters, shoved them under her bottom lip. "I'm sorry I've been so insensitive."

Ichigo's face didn't change. "It's okay, I figured it out," he said with a sigh. "I guess I forgot you were a girl for a minute."

She felt her temple pulsate faintly. "Ichigo, don't push me," Rukia warned, her panic easing slowly into relief. If things were all right with Ichigo... well, he never really stayed mad at her for long.

Her stomach fluttered as the huge houses of Shimomura Estates came into view. They were all somewhat similar, like cookie-cutter mansions, she realized. But her muted gray house appeared, looming behind the iron fence emblazoned "K", and she swallowed. "Well, uh, what time did my mom tell you to...?"

"Seven, she said. This is good. At my house, we eat at five." He seemed haughty about the prospect of eating two Christmas feasts, and she couldn't really blame him for it. If Hisana was good at anything, it was cooking. "I'll be back," he said.

She felt a flare pang across her chest at the thought of being away from Ichigo, her - best friend - and nodded as tritely as she could. "That's good. Make sure you look nice. If we're going to break your gender to my father, you might as well."

Ichigo made to frown, but stopped himself. "All right, fine."

"You're in a good mood today," she speculated, opening the car door. "I'll see you later." Seeing him pull away, as she stood vacantly in the driveway, made Rukia feel like she was spiraling over some invisible spring.

When she saw her house, though, adorned with many wreaths and ropes of tinsel, she felt her homesickness - a feeling that had been weighing her subconscious ever since August - seemed to collapse into a small beacon of relief. Ichigo, she knew, would be impressed with this house. Everyone was. _Well, I really do sound like Byakuya sometimes, _she thought as she made her way up the stone steps.

Before she could even reach for the handle, the door swung open and she was pulled into the arms of someone much taller than herself. "Merry Christmas, kid!"

Rukia smiled autonomously. "Merry Christmas, Akamori..." her sister apparently sensed that she was crushing Rukia, because she released her. The older Kuchiki child wore a red sweater and black pants, as well as high heels that only added to her height. Rukia gasped, for all of her sister's curly black hair had been cut to her shoulders.

Akamori tugged at the ends of her hair incredulously. "Do you like it? It's... weird, but Renji was the one who said I should cut it."

"Oh, yeah. Because Renji's the poster child for short hair."

Akamori gave a crooked grin. "Yeah, well, he is the poster child for hypocrisy, if anything. He and Mini-Dad are inside. Mom went to the store for cake. You know how she forgets to buy stuff." Her dark brown eyes wandered across the frost-crusted lawn, stopping and contracting. "...Is that Ichigo?"

At the name, Rukia's chest locked a little. She had only just seen him a minute ago, too... still facing Akamori, she said, "Yeah. He dropped me off."

Her sister nodded and looked back at her, her eyes blank. "I guess it's a good thing Dad got called back into work for the break."

The words met Rukia with mixed reactions of relief and disdain. Since her father had reconciled with Akamori, she had been eager to see him, but then she had been deeply anxious about Ichigo. "Why isn't Renji there?"

"They only wanted the top executives. Something about a stock problem." Her sister's eyes were glazed over with abandon, as if the holidays meant less to her now. "So," she said, her tone taking a more fluid turn, "Have fun at the dance?"

Rukia felt herself smile faintly. "Yeah, it was... pretty good."

"Hitsugaya said he spotted you and Ichigo making out."

"W-we weren—it wasn't 'making out!' It was a little kiss!" Rukia did not know the words until they had come forth, and when they did, she covered her mouth, heat curling through her face. She swallowed and said, "You know Toshiro. He's precocious, but he likes to twist things to make other people look bad." In insulting her cousin, Rukia felt her own embarrassment fade. That was wrong, but it was helpful.

A smirk pulled at her sister's lips. "I wasn't saying it was bad. Hell, Renji and I were wondering when you two would get going."

"We aren't going... Toshiro's a liar, anyway..." she knit her brows.

"Speaking of which, when's he getting here?"

"I think he took the train."

Akamori slid her hands in her pockets. "I'm glad. That way we can go an hour or two without being drilled for the most idiotic shit."

Rukia nodded absentmindedly, her senses wavering off again toward Ichigo, surfacing a warm current under her skin. "Anyway," she said, noticeably more calm now, "How far along are you?"

Akamori didn't seem at all surprised by the question. "I'd say a month. Give or take a day or two."

"Okay..." Rukia didn't quite know what to say, so she turned for the door. "Let's go inside."

* * *

_  
Now, now, baby, it's just textbook stuff,  
it's in the ABC of growing up._

_

* * *

_

Mercifully, Renji didn't seem to know about what had happened between Rukia and Ichigo at the dance. His sister-in-law—or, not, technically—was very glad of this. Mostly, though, she was just happy to be home.

Her house smelled different. With the absence of children, it was much cleaner, and emptier. This upset her a bit—with Byakuya working, Hisana must have been by herself a lot. Not much to do _but_ clean. Her own room, though, was in the exact same state in which she'd left it—a pigsty.

Renji had cut his hair off, as well—now, it was around the same length as Ichigo's. Rukia was shocked—to imagine Renji with short hair would be like imagining cake without frosting. There was no point. But he had said it was much easier to deal with, and Akamori had steadfastly agreed.

Chihiro had truly grown to Byakuya's likeness. Her red hair had fallen out to make way for small tufts of black, and her jaw was becoming more pronounced. Renji didn't appear upset at all about their lack of resemblance—he carried the child around like an oxygen tank. Akamori herself sat back and watched while Rukia paced the house, looking at things to see if they had changed. Hisana's closet was full of maternity clothing—which boggled her again. She kept forgetting that her mother was in fact pregnant, and nine months at that.

Toshiro arrived about fifteen minutes after she did, in his overlarge tuxedo, carrying a bag of presents. He looked like a tiny, grumpy, beardless Santa, there to deliver his bounty. When Rukia told him so, he said, "You're lucky it's Christmas, Kuchiki."

Rukia sat down on her bed and unpacked a few sets of clothes. She wondered if she would stay here the whole break... her heart jumped when she figured out that since Byakuya was at work, she could go to Ichigo's! But that might not work with her mother, either. Spending a night with the opposite sex was risky business with mothers. Still, Rukia smiled and tried to hope for the best.

Ichigo was, she knew, always on her mind. Best friends... that happened a lot, right? Certainly not all the time... but... then there was that kiss... it had meant nothing. Hell. Who was she kidding? She'd seen Ichigo's face, and how nervous he'd been for the rest of the evening. It hadn't meant 'nothing'. It had meant everything.

When she saw her sister and Renji, watching television and not even touching each other, she got a little worried. A romance like theirs... had faded before a few months had gone by. They had gotten used to each other, gotten over the initial... euphoria of being with each other. It hurt to see them. What if she asked Ichigo out, and he said yes, and then... they drifted?

Renji's tattooed eyebrows rose. "Rukia, you okay?"

"Never better," she chirped, quickly going back into the kitchen. She couldn't allow herself to think of Ichigo again. At least... not for the rest of the day.  
That would be good. She'd return to being obsessive the next day, and then everything... would be fine.

Hisana came through the door about a half an hour later, juggling bags. "Merry Christmas," she said softly. Sensing that something was wrong, Rukia took some of the bags and began to unload the groceries, noticing a lot of things one might find at a feast. She almost dropped the whipped cream when she saw how hugely pregnant her mother was. Some of the extra pudge that had been on her body was now gone, apparently to accommodate the baby inside. "How was your semester?"

"Oh, fine." Rukia smiled a little bit. "How was life here?"

Hisana poured herself a glass of water, her face blank. "It's been fine, you know. Your father worked, and I was here."

That was what Rukia had feared. Her mother, though she was pregnant, was temporarily living in an empty nest. "I'm happy you two are okay. Renji and Akamori cut their hair."

"They showed me already," Hisana said inconsequentially, looking at a suddenly-there Toshiro. "How was your semester?" her voice had a dry, lifeless quality to it.

To Rukia's intense surprise, Toshiro smiled crookedly. "It was fine, Aunt Hisana. Thank you for asking." As macabre as he was, Toshiro managed to keep up a near-constant regime of politeness. But that was only because he was angling to spend the break with Senna rather than his own family.

"Oh, Rukia, it's almost time for Ichigo to come over. Go and make sure your room's clean."

Rukia rolled her eyes but tromped up the stairs anyway, having no intention to clean her hurricane of a bedroom. On her way up the stairs, she saw Akamori on her cell phone, her face indescribably pained as she listened to the person on the other end. Renji was there, too, looking anxious, but not in his usual way. Her sister's face splintered several times at the voice on the other side.

_What the hell is wrong with my family? _She asked herself, swallowing and running the rest of the way up.

She snuggled against the gigantic Chappy and watched the snow, heavy and thick, plummet from the heavens. As she watched the hills, they shifted in her mind – becoming sun-drenched, bright green mounds. The way they had been back in summer, the first time Ichigo had been at her house. The bastard, beautiful as he was, had stood there and waved at her, in plain sight.

Beautiful as he was?

Not again. Rukia raced over to her mirror and ripped the brush through her hair, which had poofed up a bit over the course of the day. She gave herself a halfhearted smile, as she always did when she looked in the mirror, and tried to picture herself with Akamori's features. But they didn't fit her. And they had never done Akamori any good, right? _Don't go comparing yourself to her again, Rukia. I think you're cuter, anyway, _said Ichigo's voice in her head. She went red and turned away from the mirror, knowing very well he would never say such a thing. He avoided awkward moments like the plague. But everyone did.

A pair of brown eyes in the doorway made her jump, but it was just Akamori, looking out of place in the disaster-shack that was Rukia's room. "Hey," she said, sounding a harried. "I needed a break from Chihiro."

Rukia nodded as if she knew what that was like, and looked out at the hills, thick and caked with snow. She wanted very badly just to roll around in it, Christmas outfit and all, to leave craters in the snow, to say, _I was here! You had better remember me!_

"So," Akamori said.

Rukia looked at her, expecting a smug remark, but saw nothing but pain in her sister's eyes. Shocked, she said, "What's wrong?"

Akamori opened her mouth, as if to tell her something, but clamped it tight, looking at her sister's feet. "Nothing, you know how I get on Christmas," she said, trying very hard to sound happy, but failing. "You look pretty today," she complimented, trying to change the subject.

"Thanks, so do you." Rukia smiled faintly, but looked further into her sister's eyes. She had never seen them this way before, so eclipsed with pain, burned out. "Akamori, what's wrong?"

The older Kuchiki swallowed hard. "Today's Christmas, Rukia. Go and help Mom set the table."

"Why don't you?"

"I already did!" Akamori snapped, looking irritated. "It was my stupid idea to come here. But I'm trying so hard to be nice to this screw-up of a family, so just play along and don't fight with me!" on the last word, her voice broke an octave higher. She left the room quietly, though, disappearing down the stairs.

Rukia felt stupid and confused at the exact same time. The features on her face felt locked into that surprised face she always reserved, should Akamori ever lose her cool that way. And it hardly ever happened.

She remembered the last time it had – she, Rukia, had been eleven, Akamori fifteen. Her sister had gone to a friend's party and had come back crying and screaming, and she had remained in a state – afraid of the world, pulling away at the slightest touch. This time was different, though, and it struck odd chords within Rukia.

"Okay, well..." Rukia said, forgetting her sister had left the room. When she noticed, she bolted down the stairs.

Her mother was on the phone. "Oh, that's fine!" she winked at Rukia, giving her a full-on grin. Rukia smiled nervously and got out the silverware, giving each place a butter knife, steak knife, spoon, and glass. Ichigo would take her father's chair, she realized. That was okay.

Renji was talking to the baby in the other room, and Hisana was yammering on about... she mentioned Ichigo's name. That was all Rukia heard, and excitement spiked up within her. She was talking to Isshin. And that was good, because those two agreed on just about everything.

Rukia ran about the house, rearranging things. She knew that Ichigo had always been impressed by the estate, but she wanted to make sure that everything was top-notch perfect. It was funny; when it was just her family, she was a slob, but when Ichigo was around, she got an OCD-like obsession with cleanliness.

And then, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Renji said loftily, but Rukia pushed past him and he smirked. "Love birds."

Shooting Renji a glare, she opened the door. The glare fell from her face, sliding into a smile. "Ichigo."

He was in his tuxedo again, grinning at her, dimples prominent. "Hey, Midget."

Having not seen him for a few hours, Rukia felt her heart hammer in her ears. She was just so glad that he was here again. "How's your family?"

"They're all right," he said simply, moving forward to shake hands with Hisana. "Hey, Mrs. Kuchiki. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Hisana said jovially, going back into the kitchen at top speed. Rukia thought she smelled something burning, but didn't want to ruin the moment by making a big deal out of it.

"Ichigo," Akamori said with a grin, "You've been putting the moves on my sister?"

Renji sniggered, but Ichigo and Rukia glared at them in unison. "No, where have you -"

"Toshiro," Rukia said, cutting him off.

Ichigo's eyes tightened as he grimaced knowingly. "I really couldn't expect less from you guys."

"C'mon, Ichigo. You know you like us anyway," Renji said, watching Chihiro, who was sitting on the floor near Toshiro. The white-haired boy had looked annoyed enough, since he was public enemy number one, but it had always been evident that he hated children. She tugged on his pant leg.

"...Hello," he said awkwardly.

She looked at Toshiro with wide eyes, and stuck her little arm out.

"She wants you to pick her up," Renji explained, the self-righteous expression on his face heightening.

Toshiro blinked. "Me?"

"She likes you," Akamori said.

Rukia looked at Ichigo, who was smiling in anticipation. Shortly after, she realized that she was, too. "Go on, Toshiro."

He simply leaned over and picked the infant up, his hands trembling. "Fine. What do I do now?"

"She's a baby, for chrissake. Just hold her," Ichigo sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. Rukia watched her cousin fumble with the child, trying his hardest not to drop her, and frowned a little. Toshiro could just never catch a break, could he?

"Uhm, dinner!" Hisana called uncertainly from the kitchen.

"Food!" Renji and Akamori said, running off toward it. Toshiro let out a laborious breath and followed, still holding Chihiro and leaving Ichigo and Rukia alone in the foyer.

The air felt a little heavy and far too warm. Rukia focused on the chandelier; were those diamonds? There sure were a lot.

Ichigo looked Rukia over. Damn. She looked good. _Am I allowed to think that? She's my best friend. Ha, wonder what she would say if I told her that. She'd probably deck me. _He stood up straighter, taller, and said, "So, how are things?"

"Things are fine," she said nonchalantly, still not looking at him. Irked, Ichigo looked in the opposite direction, working not to look nervous or eager, but it wasn't working. He could never compose himself around Rukia Kuchiki. It was too hard. Her Christmas present in his pocket felt much heavier than it had been when he picked it up earlier, and he wondered if it was overkill. He felt stupid for buying it. But then she smiled. "I know... I said it already... but, uh, Merry Christmas."

Since he had been expecting something else... ignorantly... Ichigo swallowed and said, "Yeah. You too."

"Sorry about how I acted earlier."

"It's okay. I understand," he said, though he really didn't. "Wanna go and eat?"

Both relief and disappointment consumed her. "Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

**  
I'm so glad I worked this through 'till the end. I didn't know if I could get up the strength to finish the chapter. It wasn't a long one, I know. But did you like it? Be detailed, if you would. Oh, and also... sorry about the wait. I was busy. You see, the person I'd liked for so long... asked me out. So I was a little tied up, if you understand. But I am very happy as of this moment. And this is good, this is very good, because I'll be able to draw from our experiences and use them for writing. I already have, a bit, in this chapter. I won't blabber on any more... so... also! If I got an idea from you, and I didn't use it this chapter... I will! Soon! Understand this, because I did get a lot of suggestions for this chapter.  
You know what I figured out? Akamori looks a hell of a lot like Minami Maho from BECK: Mongolian Chop Squad. I've always seen her that way XD  
And, poor Hitsugaya! That Halibel needs to get pwned, and soon, too. I'm working on many ways to kill her in my head. Stupid... person... Halibel O.o And, I... am reaching 500 songs on my iTunes soon! I'm pathetic, I need to find something more meaningful to say... OH! Ums... I think I'm finished here! I will love you forever if you review! I MEAN IT! XD**


	22. Running Up That Hill

* * *

**Hey, I'm back! Thanks for your patience, guys, and all your positive reviews. I've gotta be honest, I had my doubts about that last chapter—other than its total shortness, I didn't think my writing was as good as it usually is. But that chapter is behind me now—I intend to make this one 100 percent amazing! Okay, okay, so I'm pretty sure you're wondering if we see Byakuya this chapter. And truth be told, we do :D So, be happy! Okay? Let's get going with this.**

_Songs I listened to while writing this chapter:_  
Running Up That Hill by Placebo, Daylight by Matt and Kim, Beautiful by Eminem, With Me by Sum 41.

* * *

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx **fanfic

* * *

_  
If I only could, make a deal with God, and get him to swap our places, be running up that road, be running up that hill, be running up that building...  
If I only could._

* * *

Rukia looked into her water glass, watching the transparent liquid shudder as she put it back down after her sip. She didn't want to look up—but she wasn't afraid, just annoyed. Her family would always be the same—Hisana blundering about somehow, Renji and Akamori being inexplicably happy even when they were sad, Toshiro being a dick, and Byakuya being absent. Her violet-blue eyes narrowed a bit—even with Ichigo here, she couldn't avoid her own emotions.

She looked around the table quietly. Renji was eating his salad with little interest; Hisana and Akamori were chatting softly about pregnancy; in her mother's arms, Chihiro was looking around, just like Rukia was; Toshiro was glaring at a tomato on the cutting board across the room; and Ichigo was looking at her.

There wasn't any particular inflection in his gaze. He just seemed to be observing her, if anything, his brow relaxed, his jaw muscles moving as he chewed the salad leaves. Her lips formed a woebegone smile on their own, which was just fine. He averted his eyes back to his plate. Typical man.

"So, Rukia," Hisana chirped, ending her conversation with Akamori as smoothly as she had begun it. "How's school been?"

_I've already told you about it. God. _"It's just fine. Thank you for asking." When she spoke, Rukia found her voice dry and trite. Her mother looked a little hurt by the lack of warmth, her cornflower eyes downcast.

"Oh. Good." Hisana picked up her fork and speared a maraschino cherry. "I... well, how's the salad?"

"You did a good job," Renji said thickly.

Unsure of what else to do, Rukia watched Toshiro. He had given up on the tomato and was now eating conservatively, only sampling the darkest leaves. Noticing her stare, he raised an eyebrow, and she looked down at her untouched food.

Not expecting the warm hand that enveloped her own, Rukia's head shot toward Ichigo. He kept eating as if nothing had happened under the table. She took a quick look around; no one else had noticed. Ichigo's thumb drifted across her knuckle repeatedly; stroking; a gesture of sympathy, Rukia realized. She also knew, though, that this was no fairy tale, and she wasn't going to calm down automatically at his touch. It did put her at ease, though, just a little.

"Mom," Akamori said quietly.

"Yes?" Hisana smiled at her oldest child.

"Go look at the oven. Your rotisserie is getting ready to burn." She said it calmly, but Hisana gave a little yelp and jumped up from the table, rushing over to the over and yanking it open. A faint smell of charcoal permeated the room.

"Oh!" Hisana was disheveled, her hair sticking to her forehead, as she shoved on her oven mitts and pulled out the huge pig, complete with apple. "It's a little crisp, heh, but I do like food well done!"

Toshiro sniffed disdainfully and murmured, "Indeed," but no one heard, for the doorbell rang at the exact same time. Sensing that it was time to help, Rukia put Ichigo's hand back in his own lap and ambled to the counter, grabbing the huge tray and putting it in the middle of the table.

She could hear her mother in the foyer. "Byakuya, dear, I didn't expect—"

And her father's voice: "I can tell that you are unprepared, Hisana. Don't fret over things like this." His shoes echoed throughout the first floor, and, frozen on the spot, by the living room, half turned, Rukia could see Ichigo stiffen at the table, sitting straight up in his seat. Thinking fast, she rushed back into her seat, moving it as far away from Ichigo as possible.

"The office... let you go early?" Hisana said hurriedly.

"Of course they did not. I finished my work more quickly than I thought I would." Byakuya's voice grew louder.

Akamori and Renji seemed as sullen as they had before Byakuya's return; Chihiro was as indeterminable as ever; Toshiro was indifferent. Ichigo, she could see, was the only one who was sweating bullets. He usually didn't get this worked up—even about her father.

As he entered the room, you could hear a pin drop. Her father stopped in his tracks, menacing in his silence and pure black suit. His eyes had lost all of their blueness; gray was all that remained.

And he just strode right by Ichigo, taking his place at the head of the table.

No yelling. No weapons. Rukia was surprised her mouth wasn't hanging open. Ichigo's face seemed to be on the border between relief and suspicion.

Rukia could practically hear Hisana's brain whirring with confusion - or maybe it was just the echo of her own. Her father picked up all of his utensils with the right hands, showing no sign of being ruffled. She swallowed the latest lump her throat had created and took a drink of water. "Welcome home," she said courteously, smiling. Her father nodded and ate his salad in small, sophisticated bites - ones so sophisticated, she felt like a ruffian. Ichigo was watching Byakuya, too, but he didn't seem nearly as nervous as she. Damn him.

"So, dear," Hisana said, sounding surprisingly composed. She gestured a small hand across the table. "This is—"

"Ichigo Kurosaki," Byakuya finished, his steely eyes flitting up. "The young man Rukia has been seeing. Yes, I'm aware of him." He reached for the salt. _Who eats salt on salad? _thought Rukia acridly. She had anticipated so much more fury than this... and semi-automatic pistols. But that had been a little bit of a stretch, considering.

"They're not seeing each other," his wife replied, shaking her head. A look of befuddlement came over her face. "Wait, you knew that Ichigo... that Ichigo's not a girl?"

"For quite a long time."

"And... you're not angry?" Rukia said, not believing the words that escaped her own mouth. "Y-you're not mad that I lied--we all lied? Akamori, Renji?!" she looked from one to the other, and noted the again despondent expressions on their faces. Neither was as engrossed in the scene as they would be on any other day.

For the first time in a while, her father locked eyes with her. "Rukia, of course I am angry. However, I have learned—from past experiences—that restricting other peoples' choices often ends in nearly losing my children."

She looked at Ichigo, a little embarrassed. His lips were pursed in what she knew was a suppressed grin. When violet met amber, he freed his mouth, and the smile took over his face. She reveled in him again, unable to stop herself... until Toshiro cleared his throat.

"As the biggest apparent conflict in our family has been resolved," he said, his tone indicating that he was looking for permission, "I have to ask something."

"What is it, dear?" Hisana asked warmly, her shoulders less tense now.

Toshiro blinked. "I'm asking your permission, Aunt Kuchiki, to spend my Christmas holiday at my family's villa." As he ended the sentence, a look of hope crept over Toshiro's face. Rukia smiled. _He's a good actor, the twisted little... _"Of course, I'd be happy to spend the break here, as I—"

"No, no, go on!" Hisana raised her glass of champagne. "Have fun." She glanced at her husband, who was still eating as quietly as he had been before. "Byakuya," she said.

"Yes?"

"Remember that I'm due in just one week's time!" she said with a smile.

A subtle smile played across his lips. "I remember, yes."

_Why is he so happy?! _Rukia tapped at her plate with anxious, wondering fingers. _I know! He's pretending to be all nice to Ichigo, but really, he's going to kill him when he tries to drive away with me... or... like, a drive-by... but, that's really not Byakuya's style... a hit man! _Her eyes darted around the room, looking for black-clad people lurking in the shadows. Finding nothing, she asked, "Can someone pass the Catalina?"

Renji handed her the Italian dressing, his eyebrows still locked in the frown that he - and Akamori - had worn almost all day. Rukia felt her forehead crease, exasperated by their chagrin. She looked up at Ichigo, who was eating ravenously now that he was sure he'd live through the meal. Toshiro sat, his lips curved in a quiet satisfaction, crunching away at his salad.

"So, uh..." Ichigo asked, his search for a topic evident in his eyes, "How long have you been in the workforce, Mr. Kuchiki?"

Byakuya frowned slightly. "Thirty years next April." He watched Ichigo meticulously—if he was going to allow the boy's presence, surely he would inspect it to death. Rukia rolled her eyes faintly.

"That's a long time." Ichigo looked down at his salad, taking in the leafy dish with abandon. Byakuya ignored this and continued eating. Rukia was grateful for his attempts to be civil toward Ichigo -- it made her life easier. Their eyes met, and for a moment there, it seemed as if Ichigo were going to wink, but had decided against it.

The room was silent as everyone finished their salad. Usually, her sister and Renji would be talking the night away, Byakuya wouldn't be here, and Hisana would be asleep. Now, things were just weird.

And then there was Ichigo. Why on Earth had he wanted to eat dinner with her circus of a family? Many times, she'd wondered why he even liked her at all. Not necessarily ... that way... but at all? Was there anything charming about her?

Hisana served her roasted ham with impeccable speed and precision, dicing the meat and floating about the table to put it on everyone's plate. Rukia was impressed; what she lacked in credentials, Hisana made up for in skill. She smiled brightly as she sat down in her seat, looking at the expressions of longing everyone wore. "Go on," she said brightly. "Just dig in."

Byakuya's calculating eyes went back to Ichigo and Rukia. "What do you plan to do with your future, young man?" he asked.

Ichigo cleared his throat. "Well, sir, I'm fifteen, and I've just been thinking about school lately."

"No plans?" Byakuya arched an ebony brow. "How careless." As if to accent his disdain, he promptly replaced his fork on the place mat. "Though, it's not exactly a surprise."

Rukia's eyes narrowed. _Fuck you, Byakuya. How dare you judge him? And I thought... that things had taken a turn for the better... stupid Rukia. _She stabbed her salad with the wrong fork, but damn it all to hell, she would use whichever fork she grabbed first. Ichigo was being a perfect gentleman, and her father was spurning him again. She began to realize that while he was very wealthy and impeccable, her father had horrible people skills.

Hisana smiled. "How is it?"

There was a small murmur of approval from everyone except Chihiro, who couldn't speak anyway. Fulfilled, Hisana set back to eating her meal as quietly as everyone else. Rukia caught Ichigo sneaking glares at her father, and nudged him with her foot. He stopped.

Seeming deterred by the lack of conversation, Hisana started to chatter on about her plans for the break, something about mailing everyone their presents because she hadn't had time to wrap them, and other things Rukia mostly tuned out in favor of the quiet glare-battle between her father and Ichigo, which had just picked back up again.

Byakuya cleared his throat. "Renji, have you finished your report for this month?"

The redhead looked up, his eyes dim. "Yeah. Last week."

"Did you include the summary of our yearly goals, as I asked?"

"Yes, sir." Renji poked at his salad.

Appeased, Kuchiki kept eating, his shady gray orbs shifting to meet Rukia. "How has the semester been?"

"Fine."

"I would be very pleased if you took some time to join a sports team."

"Sports?" Rukia felt a huge weight drop down on her conscience.

"Yes. Like your cousin."

She might have imagined it, but a gleam of triumph danced across Toshiro's eyes.

"You know I've never been good at them..." _What is he thinking? Am I getting fat? _Rukia glanced down at her thighs, and they seemed fine, but when she looked up at her father, he was adamant.

"Tennis would work well for you," he said.

Ichigo looked amused. She fought the intense urge to slap him silly. "I think it may, too." She pictured herself in a skimpy little white skirt, prancing around, and was repulsed.

As if the thought had crossed his mind as well, Byakuya sniffed disdainfully. "That isn't a good choice. Perhaps running—?"

"Dear," Hisana said. "Let's not talk about this at Christmas dinner, all right? Rukia will do sports, but that's not the point at this moment."

_Rukia will do sports?! Since when do you make decisions like that!? _The younger Kuchiki daughter glared daggers at both her parents, but they were both eating now, unaware of her blatant anger. Dissatisfied, she picked mercilessly at her thumbnail until Hisana announced that it was time for cake.

The sugary confection put her in a better mood; after all, it was cake. A yummy vanilla creme one, too. The only ones who didn't seem happier were Byakuya, Renji and Akamori, but that was to be expected. It wasn't as if Rukia wasn't worried about her sister—she just figured that any problems Akamori was having were probably minute things.

After a bit more useless talk, Hisana made a beeline for Rukia. "So, ah, Rukia... you're taking... Home Economics, is that right?"

This was an unexpected question. "Yes...?" she said.

"Ah." Hisana smiled awkwardly, her eyes darting about. "Yes, that'll help you with cooking... and housework..."

_I don't plan to be a dumb housewife. _"You're right." Rukia chewed her meat, watching Ichigo dump blue cheese on his own portion. _That's... odd taste. What is he, Orihime? _"So far we've only made pancakes."

"Yoruichi ate them all," Ichigo muttered, putting the dressing down.

Rukia rolled her eyes. "Half the class burned them anyway."

"Hitsugaya got so pissed he spit in his," Ichigo sniggered.

Toshiro sent a surreptitious glare the orange-head's way, but he was too engrossed in his food to take any notice. The snowy-haired boy looked uninterestedly down at his meal.

"Akamori," Hisana said quietly. "Have you figured out what you're going to do yet?"

Her oldest child's brown eyes were limpid. "What I'm going to do?" she asked dryly.

"Yes. About school." Her mother smiled.

Akamori looked disdainfully back at her. "Be realistic, Mom," she said lowly, and Renji didn't even try and argue with her as he usually did. Hisana was taken aback by her tone, apparently, because she blushed and looked at her husband.

_God, Mom. Why are you so childish? _Rukia stabbed her meat.

Ichigo noticed her behavior and frowned, but he had long since learned that when it had to do with her family, Rukia shouldn't be bothered.

The rest of dinner passed uneventfully, save for Hisana's strained attempts at conversation. Rukia willfully swallowed the rest of her meal and sat there, sipping her water, as she tried to avoid making eye contact with Ichigo. He must surely hate her, now that he knew about all of the screwy... _No, don't do that. Have more faith in Ichigo. He deserves it._

"Okay," Hisana said. "Akamori, could you help me clear the plates?"

Rukia's mind was somehow isolated from the clatter of plates and the persistent monotone of Byakuya's voice. Her mind was on everything it shouldn't have been; how she was going to pass the semester, her Christmas present, how she was going to pick a stupid sport, her _fucking_ hair, and—

As cheesy as it sounded, Ichigo's eyes pulled her out of it. "Hey, Rukia... can I talk to outside for a second?"

There was no deliberation; she nodded immediately, jumping out of her chair and making a beeline for the front door. Ichigo gave her a blank look, making a small anxious demon gnaw at her intestines. _What? Did I do something wrong?_

They walked off the porch, onto the serpentine stone path that led down to the gates. Snow had gathered all over the path, causing Rukia to watch her feet. God, how annoying. _I should have gotten my coat. This dress is too short. Damn. _

Ichigo seemed like was going to say something, but caught himself and stopped, and ineffable shape settling onto his face.

Rukia's lips puckered, annoyed. "What's that look for?" she demanded, her hands sliding into their rightful place on her hips.

"Nothing," he said blankly. As Rukia watched him, she noticed something, far off in the confines of his features. Was it... disappointment?

"No," she said, her voice increasing in volume, "Tell me why you're acting like a total jackass. Ever since this morning you've been in a horrible mood!" Well, that wasn't totally true. He was happy during dinner. It was just that... in the deepest level of her mind, she must have known that arguing with Ichigo led to things that... weren't always bad? Good? No... But it was just natural -- and at the same time, there was something so... different about the look on his face.

She knew that part of it was dissatisfaction, somehow, but there was another emotion floating on the outskirts of that twisted aura of his. Something between... stress.. and longing...

She knew the name for that emotion.

"What do you want me to do, Rukia? How do you want me to prove myself?!" he didn't sound as annoyed as he usually did, which struck some odd chords within the raven-haired teen. If anything... he sounded a little desperate. His brow, usually corrugated with some form of anger... was contracting with something like impatience, like worry... and then there was that third emotion in his eyes...

But this was Ichigo, Rukia thought to herself. He couldn't feel that emotion—it just wasn't in him, was it?

_Mom says everyone gets those feelings, _Rukia reminded herself, her own forehead crinkling with indecision. She looked at Ichigo with a consternation she had never felt before. "What is _wrong _with you?!" she found her voice hoarse. "Ever since the kiss, you've been acting so different toward me! What gives, Kurosaki?!"

Angry again, Ichigo said, "And you've been a real bitch!"

Rukia felt her anger subsiding to make way for shock. "What did you just call me!?" she felt her fists clench, sweat bead on her forehead, and her legs stiffen like lead.

Ichigo's tone roughened. "That's right! You're a bitch! I'm pretty sure you know already, Kuchiki!"

"Yeah, well, you're a pompous asshole for someone who's done _nothing_!" Rukia shot back, anger welling up, threatening to burst through her at any moment. "And you don't have any manners!"

"Manners!?" Ichigo got down in her face. "Manners!? You can't defend me in front of that shithead of a cousin of yours, or your fuckwad of a father—you're trying to lecture _me _about manners!?"

Ichigo felt his head lash in the opposite direction, accompanied by a flaring pain. His eyes burned, watering, and his fist clenched, knuckles popping out like little white islands amidst his skin, but as he seethed, he knew he couldn't hit her back.

"Don't you scream in my face." Rukia's tone had reposed, become light once again.

"If you were a guy," he grounded out, "I would've decked you by now..."

"I know you would've." Rukia looked at the mark on Ichigo's face—a perfect crimson hand print, marring the tough-guy image he was still trying to maintain. "But if you did, you know I would never speak to you again."

"...Right." Ichigo looked her in the eye, touching the slap mark lightly, "It amazes me how you can always get me to shut my mouth."

"I just know you," she said simply, trying to ignore the barrage of emotions that were flashing through her like a marquee. "And, Ichigo, deep down... you like it when I'm happy."

He shook his head, his voice low. "It's not that deep down. What, you think I want to fight with you? Pf. Na, that's just..." he stuck his hands in his pockets. "That's just the way we are, Rukia."

"You think we'll always fight...?" she trailed off, suddenly getting an image in her head -- herself, older, smiling alongside that faceless husband she'd imagined before, her hand held loosely in his, her eyes a bit cold.

"I know we will," Ichigo confirmed, smiling crookedly.

As sudden as before, the faceless man started to grow taller... thinner, more muscular, with a shock of bright orange hair, impish brown eyes, and a barely-there smile.

"And now that we're alone..." his brow knitted a bit. "I want to talk about what happened at the dance. I know you've been thinking about it."

"Ichigo... why are you..." she thought this over and realized he was being... open? About something so personal?

"Rukia, don't interrupt, damn it. ...You were acting really pissed this morning. I went along with it."

"You said you understood," she said, her eyes narrowing a little. "It's pretty damn obvious that I was having a PMS moment."

"Come on," he groaned. "Every second of your life is a PMS moment. This wasn't just that, Rukia, you..." he was having difficulty explaining -- and they had both seen it coming. Ichigo was an exclusively closed book, holding everything inside him. Now... now was one of those rare moments... "You're as hacked-off about it as I am about it."

For once, Rukia didn't frown. "So what if I'm mad? I'm allowed to be."

"We already know we both... liked it." Ichigo's voice faltered, on the tightrope between embarrassment and determination. "I didn't know why I did it. I wasn't planning on it... but I just looked at you and you looked at me... and then there was that sappy music, and I—" he broke off, staring at his hands, which were trembling very faintly. His mouth turned down, upset by this break in his regime.

"Ichigo," Rukia said in a low voice. "You don't have to apologize to me... it's okay. I can forget about it."

"Don't _forget_ about it," he said quickly.

"Isn't that what you wanted, though?" Rukia was confused, peering at Ichigo through strands of loose hair. His eyes were downcast, but his brow was relaxed as if he were sleeping.

He made a soft noise in the back of his throat -- a suppressed sigh, she realized, as he looked back up at her, his scowl renewed. "I'm just wondering something."

"..." Rukia let out her breaths slowly now, trying to figure it out before she would have to ask him.

"If I..." He pressed down into his palms, his fingernails gouging bright red marks. He watched her before him, standing in her little red dress, her huge violet eyes concerned, curious. She had abandoned her front, just for now... while he was enduring the question. "If I did it... just..."

"Ichigo," she said quietly. "Just tell me. I won't be mad."

He looked at her then, irritation marring his inquiry. "Rukia, stop acting so understanding. That makes it worse, all right?"

"Being understanding makes it worse," Rukia repeated contemptuously. "How does that make any sense, Ichigo?" despite the tone of her voice, she slid a small hand over his. Ichigo didn't redden as he usually did, or pull away from her. She suspected it was because he was fascinated by her touch, as had been made evident that morning in the dorm. There had never been a woman Ichigo had trusted enough to touch him. It was offhanded, but the thought warmed her.

"It's just that I don't feel as stupid when you're acting stupid, too. You know... what I'm trying to say here... like..."

"Like, you're lonely. And it helps to know that I'm human, too." She still couldn't get over the fact that they weren't arguing... but at the same time, she knew that something was going to happen. It always did... when they got along. "Just tell me, Ichigo—"

"If I did it again, would you be pissed?" he said quickly, focusing on the sky, not wanting to see her. What if she did hate him for implying...? And it was Rukia! Rukia! Ichigo inwardly cursing himself, unsure of what words he could use to describe himself.

"Well, Ichigo..." Rukia sighed. "I don't really think I would. I would be confused, more than anything. Like last time."

His heart beat faster. Was this luck? Could she really be okay with that idea...? He swallowed. "If you're confused, we could try and talk about it," he said, not believing the words that were escaping his mouth. _I'm actually being agreeable. What the hell?_

"What is there to talk out? In the end, it's just one thing—we're both too stubborn."

_"_Too stubborn for what?"

_"_You know what."

"No, I don't." Ichigo caught her wrist as she started to pull her hand away. "Now it's your turn, Rukia. Tell _me._"

Rukia's breath caught. He was being insistent, for once in his life... on something she watched him, his eyes alight with determination, something occurred to her.

_Fuck. I might actually love him._

"Ichigo... what are you expecting me to say?" she asked softly, her eyes downcast as she thought it over. Did she love Ichigo? As cliche and creepy as the word was... it seemed to describe her feelings accurately. _So that's it, huh? It's that simple?_

"What's wrong?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning in closer. "You having another emo moment?"

"I'm not the one having an emo moment. You are."

"How's that?" his tone segued from concerned to competitive in less than a second.

"You were just freaking out over kissing me. Like it's something amazingly amazing, or whatever.''

''You're fishing for compliments," Ichigo said.

"Well, that depends on whether I deserve the compliments or not." She smiled faintly, picking at a cracked fingernail absentmindedly, bending the broken piece back and forth. Ichigo watched this curiously, but she didn't quite notice him. "Do I?"

His smile faltered, anxiety loading itself into an ineffable mass at the top of his lungs. _I can't tell her that, I can't. Things'll change... "_I wouldn't know, either way."

"You're saying I was your first kiss?"

Ichigo's heart beat faster. "That's none of your business," he bit out, but as soon as the words left his lips, he knew that his efforts were futile. It was painfully obvious that he had never gotten that close to a girl. Angered by his own foolishness, Ichigo rolled his eyes and looked away, trying to block Rukia from sight. But she was like a limb that had fallen asleep – you couldn't avoid it, and it was at the same time pleasurable and painful to shake out.

"Obviously, you were mine," Rukia said, actually able to control the shakiness in her voice. "Does that satisfy you?"

"No, it doesn't," Ichigo muttered. "Tell me again why you're acting like this."

Her eyes narrowed. "I couldn't put it into words if I tried. What makes you think you're the perfect person, here!?"

"I didn't say I was."

Her nose crinkled. "Ichigo."

"What?"

She made a noise between a sigh and a scoff, then squeezed her fist. "Let's just stop fighting, okay? Just for right now. I don't want Christmas to end this way."

As Ichigo thought about it, that made more and more sense. When he looked back on Christmas, he thought of happiness and presents. In the future, he speculated that he wouldn't much like looking back on bickering with Rukia. "Fine."

"And if you don't mind, I'd like my present now." She smiled crookedly.

He blinked. "Your present..." he thought it over, considering everything that had just happened, and felt like a serious fool. "It's stupid."

Rukia frowned, throwing her towel on the floor. "Well, you won't know I think that until you tell me what it is."

"It's not your opinion on it," he muttered. "As much as it is that I think it's a stupid gift."

"Ichigo." She said firmly. "Nothing you do is stupid."

"Quit trying to build me up, Kuchiki."

"I'm not."

"You won't even like it. You'll say it's dumb."

"I don't know what it is."

"No, but Iknow _you._"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"When a guy gives a girl a ring, it's supposed to mean _romance_!" he said roughly, shaking his head at the last word. "Obviously you don't want that, so, it's pretty much pointless now."

Rukia was silent for a moment. "You bought me a ring?"

"I knew it," he said darkly. "I knew you would think it was dumb."

"Nobody's ever bought me anything like that before," she said, no real inflection in her voice. It wasn't that she was being cold; in reality, she was just _stunned._ "Not ever..." she blinked, taking it in for a moment.

"...Ch." Ichigo looked down at his feet, his forehead locked into what seemed like the deepest frown he had ever worn. "Whatever."

Rukia's lips twisted. "Whatever?"

"Yeah. Whatever you want. I'll take it back, and we can forget." He turned to look at her, the scowl alleviating a bit at the expression on her face. Rukia was smiling gently, her eyes soft. "What's that look for?" he demanded, his face heating up.

"What do you think it's for, Kurosaki?" she said plainly, raising an eyebrow. "I don't understand how you're so embarrassed that you pretty much gave me the best gift ever."

"Best gi—" Ichigo cut himself off, shaking his head rapidly. "Yeah. All right, Rukia."

"Stop downing yourself, already, Ichigo. It was a good gift."

"No."

"What, do you just not want yours?"

Ichigo's features became obscure, confusion openly warring on his face. "Mine? I thought you wouldn't—"

The ginger-haired man didn't have time to finish, for all of his words were blanching off into nothing under the touch of Rukia's lips. It was vexing that he wasn't even surprised, but actually feeling so very—

_deprived?_

And he was... responding, his long fingers entwined in her thick hair, pulling it as he took in the feeling of their cosseting mouths. It was so different from before, awkwardness to the wind, just them. They weren't best friends, enemies, lovers, or anything. They were just Ichigo and Rukia.

Hot waves of her breath grazed his damp lips as he kept moving them, lunging forward to capture more of that mellifluous sensation. Rukia elicited cut-off little moans, but he could find no initiative to care. This was now. This was what he had been icing over for... God knew how long, and he wouldn't let her meticulous behavior end it.

And Rukia didn't _want _to. Her arms moved instantaneously to his back, moving their bodies closer. The sound and taste of Ichigo's guttural sighs were gratifying, almost to the point of pain, and it was just as empyreal to know that it was because of her, because of her that Ichigo Kurosaki was being subservient, giving into his feelings, letting her do it.

She felt her back come into contact with something; the wrought iron of the front gates. _Ah. _Rukia felt oxygen spilling swiftly from her lungs, and she pulled away, breathing rapidly, struggling to reestablish her mellow disposition.

Just as she saw disappointment sashay across Ichigo's face, she pulled him back to her by his tie, and continued their heedless teenage kissing. His legs pinned her to the metal, arms on the small of her back. It didn't matter that she was freezing, or that she wasn't being a lady—_fuck that—_all that mattered were those lips, and this moment, and, _oh, tongue._

She opened her lips, her body quaking as their tongues undulated together, tickling. The feeling of this, her emotions spilling into it, the kiss, one she had wanted... or, perhaps, wanted was the wrong word. _Needed _was more adequate. The raven-haired girl wanted to respond with dynamic skill and prestige, but she had neither of those things; nonetheless, all of her inhibitions were slowly falling away, like a broken continent crumbling into the sea.

Ichigo's tongue drifted across the roof of her mouth before he removed it, kissing with closed lips again. Disappointment mingled with relief; if they had continued that, Rukia feared she would be unable to contain herself. But any part of him was enough, as long as that raw feeling inside her chest was being eclipsed by his warmth.

The most perfect feeling in the world ended far too soon.

Their lips parted with a wet sound, and when Ichigo made to pull away, he found that he couldn't do it. He remained there, holding Rukia against the gate, his burning eyes locked with hers. "...So this is..." he said softly, his tone sided with whispers and sighs.

"This is what we both wanted," Rukia finished simply, a soft smile creeping up. She was unable to think clearly, their breath together, visible in the cold.

He hoisted her upward, then down from the gate. "...I wasn't expecting that."

"I wasn't either," she muttered, but there was no resentment or bad edges to her voice. There was just a velvety, peaceful feeling bouncing through her torso. _What's that called? Bliss, right? ...Well, finally._

Ichigo tilted his head to the side. "We should get inside, Rukia. Your mom'll be wondering where you went."

"I don't think she would care," Rukia said vaguely.

"Well, whatever. I want some cake, anyway," Ichigo's tone was just as indeterminable as her own, which was actually rather expectable, given... what had just happened. Rukia could still hear her heart hammering wetly in her ears, but she was glad they weren't talking about it. That would just make things more awkward.

_Some of the things I thought during that kiss were kind of... corny, _Rukia thought offhandedly as they strolled across the snowy path. _But sometimes, life is just corny, I guess. Especially with Strawberry and I._

When she opened the door, Rukia was met by the sight of Renji and Akamori pulling on their coats. A frown worked its way across her face. "Where are you two—"

Her sister's voice was thick. "We just have to go home, Rukes." She smiled dolefully, taking Chihiro from the waiting Renji. "I have to clean."

Rukia resisted the urge to scoff loudly. Akamori never cleaned. "Alright. I'll see you later, then," she replied nebulously, her arms tight at her sides. _Clean. Stupid excuse. _"Call me, okay?"

_"_We will," Renji said faintly. "Bye." The tall man sidestepped Rukia to get out the door, pulling his hood up to shield himself from snow. Akamori followed slowly, the ivory flakes quickly dotting her pitch-black hair.

"Why are they acting so strange and guarded?" said Toshiro's voice softly, making Rukia jump. She hadn't seen him leaning against the wall near the chandelier. "Color me confused on this."

Hisana looked over from the counter. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much. Akamori's always been a bit of a closed book."

"That doesn't mean she gets to act obscure just for the sake of attention," the white-haired boy replied waspishly, picking at his fingernails.

Like everyone else, Hisana was used to Toshiro's venomous disposition. "I don't quite think she's looking for attention this time," she said incredulously. "I don't think..." she got out a knife and sliced the large vanilla crème cake. "Ah, let's just let her be," she said, the volume of her voice very low.

Byakuya rounded the corner, apparently coming from the bathroom. Rukia saw Ichigo visibly tense beside her, but her father strode right on by, going toward his wife. Toshiro smirked at her, and Rukia shook her head back at him.

"Hisana," said her father.

Obviously surprised by her husband's sudden appearance, Hisana blinked. "Oh, hello, dear," she said faintly, retrieving plates from the cabinet. "What is it?"

The black-haired man's face was impassive for a long while. "I'll talk to you about it after dessert," he said finally.

_"_Okay." Hisana smiled a bit and made her way toward the table.

Ichigo's cell phone broke out through the din. "H—Dad," he moaned. "Uh-huh. Yeah. Why?" he frowned intensely, his mouth twisted. "You... all right. I'll be there soon." He closed it with a resounding _snap, _and sighed. "Sorry, Rukia, I've got to go."

For the first few seconds after hearing that, Rukia felt like she'd been kicked in the chest. "Why?" she demanded, remembering how lenient Isshin usually was with his son.

His eyes were off-put. "My dad wants me home to open presents with Yuzu and Karin."

_My family doesn't... well... we're dysfunctional... _Rukia bit her lip. "...A-all right, then. I'll see—"

"I'll call you tomorrow," he said with a nod, but at the same time, Rukia felt something nudge against her thigh. Looking down, she saw his hand, clutching a little black box. _That ring? _She took it quietly, able to hear her heart in her ears again. _What am I supposed to..._

She didn't quite realize that Ichigo was leaving until she heard the door shut behind him, and as usual when she was upset, a lump started to develop in her esophagus.

Her cousin's steely seafoam eyes met hers. "Oi, Kuchiki," he said in a low voice, "Take that upstairs."

A little prickle in the back of Rukia's head said, _is... Toshiro being considerate? Wow, this has been a weird day... _Perhaps it was her instincts, or perhaps it just seemed wise, but Rukia followed Toshiro's advice and climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

Maybe a small part of her had thought that the room had magically rearranged itself when she left it, but the place was still in shambles. She placed the tiny box on her vanity with an almost silent _thump, _and stood staring at it for a long while. A ring, eh? She smiled a little.

When she got back downstairs, Toshiro, Byakuya and Hisana were seated at the table, all looking expectantly in her direction. The younger Kuchiki daughter decided to simply sit with them.

"Rukia," her father said heavily.

She glanced up at him. "Yes?"

"Your mother thinks it is a good idea for you to take up tennis as an extracurricular activity." His gray eyes were calm. "And as it happens, there are factors within that that would affect my company, on the whole."

"Such as—w-what?" Rukia bit down on her cake.

Byakuya cleared his throat. "As I have heard from Toshiro, the coach is Kaien Shiba, who happens to be the son of Usamui Shiba, a business associate of mine. If you were to become acquaintances with him, it would help the two companies."

"Okay." Rukia recalled seeing Kaien a few times around the hallways; he was upbeat, bright and happy, he didn't seem like he would do her any harm.

"Don't forget about Tasuko," Hisana said quietly.

"Ah, right." Byakuya placed his fork on the plate. "Tasuko Kouji is the heir to Kouji Industries, our top competitor. He is also the Japanese Junior Tennis Champion. You would do very well to befriend him as well." He gave her a look as if to say, _like you have a choice._

_"_Right..." Japanese Junior Champion? Grand. She was expected to rub elbows with both Kaien and Tasuko... but at least she knew that Kaien was relatively good-natured, unlike most rich people At least she would have Kaien, right? He was nice.

But what was the deal with this tennis thing, anyway? She wasn't a bargaining chip, but evidently, there wasn't anything she could do to deflect her father's orders.

They finished their cake; Hisana bustled about as always, hurriedly righting everything. Toshiro skulked upstairs, and Rukia just sat there, staring at her now empty placemat. All of her school stuff... and now tennis, on top of it? _Are they seriously trying to kill me?!_

Hisana looked at her. "Oh, Rukia. Make sure Toshiro stays in your room, we're repainting Akamori's, and the fumes..."

Her younger daughter nodded vaguely, getting up from the table to alert the young Hitsugaya of the sleeping arrangements. He simply nodded when she told him, and at that moment, she noticed something off about him. It was the way his eyes reflected everything; they were weighed down with a thick sorrow. But really, what else was new?

She strode into her room, picking up her phone from the vanity as she was struck with the urge to call Ichigo. With a sigh she remembered that he was busy with family things; now alone, her brain flitted back to the evening's events. A stab of pleasure clanked at her heart at the memory—

_Does this mean we're dating?_

She shook her head quickly at the thought. It was just too heavy for her conscience.

* * *

_In my shoes, just to see, what it's like, to be me... I'll be you, let's trade shoes, just to see what it'd be like to feel your pain, you feel mine, go inside each others' minds...  
_

* * *

Renji glanced at Akamori, his features still locked into the frown they'd been in all day. "Are you gonna get in bed?" he asked.

She looked at him from her spot on the porch, her eyes empty. "Yeah. Soon."

"When is soon?" he leaned against the door frame, cold in his pajamas. "It's ten o'clock already. You can't mope all night."

"You would mope too if it happened to you." Akamori's voice was not accusatory or angry; she was as nonchalant as she would have been if they were discussing the weather. "But you're a guy."

"Don't think it doesn't hurt me," the redhead said, his defensive streak rearing its head. He walked closer to her, as if daring her to insult him again.

"I never said that." Her black hair was damp and messy, deeply contrasting with her stark white face. "I just don't understand it. What did we do wrong?"

"Nothing. Stop blaming yourself," Renji said firmly, his amber eyes hard.

"I'm the only one who can be blamed for it. It was so... I was barely even..." she glanced at her gloved hands, letting out a harried sigh. The heat from her breath swirled in the air.

"Akamori." He sighed. "I'm not trying to be an ass, here. But it happens to a lot of people, not just you. Like Ichigo's mom, Masaki, her first kid."

"Why did it have to be me?" she said quietly.

"That's a dumb question. Why not you?" he crossed his arms. "Look, we've had tough times. And we can get through this, too." God knew money had been tight since the very beginning, and she had adjusted to that well enough. But perhaps that had altered his perception of her; Akamori was barely out of high school, after all, and her emotions were unstable enough.

"Miscarriage, though?" she said darkly. "Couldn't we just lose a spare tire or something? Did we have to lose a baby?" her voice turned acerbic at that point, and she turned to stare him in the eyes, resentment reigning her own.

Renji didn't quite know what to say to that. He simply stood there, staring back at her in the same manner.

Akamori didn't have anything else to say, apparently. She stood up and trudged up the snowy stairs, walking straight past him into the house.

* * *

_ My heart's a tart, your heart is rent, my body's broken, yours is bent._

* * *

Rukia's eyes slid open, her sleep interrupted by a soft noise. She looked around the room, squinting through the dark, until she found Toshiro's sleeping bag on the floor, crumpled and empty.

She followed the sound through the room until she saw him, his knees up to his chest, against the wall, his neck slumped over. A look of worry and confusion found its way across Rukia's face; she scooted over to her light, switching it on and bathing the dark room in it.

Toshiro's head snapped up, and her heart beat like a hammer when she saw his face streaked with tears. "Go away, Kuchiki," he muttered, folding his arms over his knees.

Rukia blinked. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Nothing anybody would care about," he said, his voice firm but shaken. "Go to sleep."

A weight in Rukia's chest told her to refuse. "No. I want to know what's wrong with you." It was odd for her to feel concerned about Toshiro; usually they fought like cats and dogs, simultaneously disliking one another in a faint way. They were family, but not close in any sense.

His eyes narrowed. "Think back, Kuchiki. To this summer."

_This summ— _Rukia's face blanched of color. _Hiroko died. I can't believe I forgot th... _"I'm sorry," she said, as loudly as she dared.

"Today is the five-month anniversary of my mother's death," Toshiro said bluntly, the fact that he had been crying still very obvious in his tone. "And nobody even bothered to pay her any—" his voice broke, become hoarse. "Respect."

She didn't know what to say. "Toshiro—I—"

"You don't have to apologize." A tear fell from his chin, creating a tiny dot on his pajama pants. "I'm just... I don't..." he picked at his fingernails, obviously trying to deflect. "The one who should apologize is my fucking bastard of a father." Anger ripped through his features.

"He's in jail. He's paying for what he did," Rukia pointed out, realizing immediately that this was the wrong thing to say.

"That doesn't bring my mother back to life, now does it?!" Toshiro snapped, his teeth bared. "I don't care how long he's in there. It won't be long enough."

"I wouldn't think it would be, either..." it was times like these that Rukia realized just how inept at dealing with other peoples' feelings she really was. _That's because I'm selfish..._

"I don't think you understand, but I can't expect you to." His green eyes were quiet but still simmering with rage; one good thing about Toshiro was, when he was angry, he knew where to draw the line. "Just get back in bed."

"Now that I'm awake, you know I won't be able to go back to sleep." Rukia smiled awkwardly, trying to level the ground between them. "Besides, I'm too excited. What do you think you got for Christmas?"

"I would say savings bonds." Toshiro wiped at his cheeks to rid them of tears. "You know your mother always gets those for me."

"Yeah. Maybe it's just because she doesn't know what you like. What do you want?" Even though she knew his mind was far from distracted, Rukia felt good for being able to help him, even if it was just a little.

Toshiro pursed his lips. "I'd like... a new soccer ball would be nice..." his teeth came down on his bottom lip. "But I could get one myself, so the point is probably moot..."

"No!" Rukia said quickly. "I mean, uh, my mom can get it for you. It's fine..."

Her cousin stared at his small feet. "That would be nice," he said softly.

Unsure of what else to talk about, Rukia pulled something she was sure he'd chatter on about. "How's Senna?"

He turned to look at her then. "Fine, I suppose. Why?" his eyes narrowed just a fraction of a bit.

Rukia shrugged. "I just wanted to know, how you guys were doing. You act like a couple."

A look of hurt spasmed across his eyes. "No," he said. "Senna has a boyfriend already." There was an undeniable bitterness to him as he said this, clear to Rukia as much as he tried to hide it. "She has no interest in me."

"You don't know that."

"Oh, but I do." Toshiro swallowed. "She made it clear last night."

"Why?" Rukia raised her eyebrows, remembering his behavior the previous evening. Just sort of prowling around, looking as if he had a hidden agenda.

The white-haired boy closed his eyes. "I—we—both made fools of ourselves. Alcohol changes people, you know... long story short." His gaze was penetrating. "We were... close to doing something... and she told me flatly that there wasn't any way. That she was in love already."

"Well if you were never with her... you can't be this hurt with good reason," Rukia said softly.

"I don't understand why it hurt so badly, I really don't." He let out a long sigh. "Today's been horrible," he said darkly, stretching his legs out on the floor. "And I know she didn't know, but Senna could've... well... I guess this would've been better if it had happened some other time."

Rukia felt a small guilt demon gnaw at her intestines as she thought about what she was going to say next. "Well... if she's already in love... she was doing a good thing by not... sleeping with you, because... well, what if her boyfriend found out? You'd feel worse."

"I thought about that, you're right. But somewhere, in my mind, I must think she's... mine, in some way, because I feel jealous every time she mentions anyone else... but... she was never mine."

"You love her," Rukia said quietly, "don't you?"

"No, I'm no idiot." Toshiro smiled dryly. "Infatuated is more like it. But still, no matter what word I give it, nothing changes. As a rule, I'm supposed to give myself time to get over things..." he sighed again and leaned his head against the wall, inhaling deeply. His eyes were still very bloodshot, his voice still heavy and moist.

Rukia felt heaps of guilt pile upon her; not only was Toshiro icing over the loss of his mother, but the rejection of a crush as well. That was a horrid combination. She knew that she had no room to sympathize with him; after all, she had never been in a relationship before, and had no experience.

Then she remembered Ichigo, and her senses began to dim. She shook her head as if trying to physically clear it of him; right now Toshiro was upset.

"Look," he said. "Let's just drop this. I don't want to talk about her anymore at all."

"Okay, fine with me." Rukia smiled softly, but it didn't quite reach her confused eyes. All of this, so suddenly, weighing down her already depressed cousin... since she had just found out, Rukia wondered just how long he had been pining over Senna. "You're too good for her anyway. She isn't worth your time."

"I thought I just said we were going to stop talking about her." His tone closed the subject indefinitely. "Now, Rukia. Let's do what all depressed people do."

"Cry?" Rukia blinked.

"No. Forget about it until tomorrow." He stood up, his body shaky, and crossed the room. "Get in your bed. I'm turning off the light."

* * *

**I'm really sorry about the wait, here, guys. I was just... eh, life decided to screw me over. What else is new, really? But anyway. Yeah. The end of the chapter was pretty angsty and shizz. But oh well, you'll get over it, because I plan to work extra fast on the next chap. Oh, and I dedicate this chapter to... huh. I guess, nobody. Nobody. Oh, idea. I dedicate this chapter to all the reviewers. Because you're just an amazing pizza with extra awesomesauce. :D .__. Now I'm gonna get hungry.  
About the chapter. Sorry it took so long. Again.  
My life? Gone to hell. I was dumped for my neighbor. How annoying is that? But I've done a lot of thinking. And it was a mistake. I can do better, no? ;)  
So, thoughts on the new filler arc? I think it's pretty damn epic, myself. And I have noticed a bit of IchiRuki. :3 Yayzorz. I also very much adore the new ending 'Mad Surfer'. Too much actually. I've been blaring it of late.  
Mmnnn. I'm sleepy...**

**_NOTE OF IMPORTANCE:_**** Reviews make Miss Claire Leutz/xSilverWingsx so wonderfully happy. Please leave one.**


	23. Ascending

**Well, that took much longer than it should've. Hey, guys! I'm back with the next chapter of She's Like the Moon.  
Sorry it took so long (though I wonder how many times I've said that in these author's notes. It's getting really, really cold here, and my fingers are pretty much numb as I type this, but I really am excited for the story to really start unfolding – which begins now.  
I've been slacking with it since August. I'm horrible T.T Sorry for making you wait. Life is getting really dramatic on my end.**

* * *

She's Like the Moon, an **xSilverWingsx** fanfic

_and Delta comes again ; and her masks are shifting like a chameleon  
someone tell me why she breaks my fall,  
and then breaks my heart._  
-Muse

* * *

The next morning dawned snowy and pristine. Rukia glanced toward the window and saw pure white, and happiness quickly enveloped her. She hadn't played in the snow since she was a child.

Quickly, she woke Toshiro. "Get up, it's snowing."

"Fantastic," he said monotonously, his face buried in his pillow. "Because that's never happened here before." Since she had been living in a dorm for the past four months, Rukia had forgotten how grumpy Toshiro could get in the mornings. After a few more moments of waiting, he didn't make any move to get up, so she put her slippers on and thundered down the stairs, finding her mother at the kitchen table with a cup of tea.

"Hi, Rukia," she chirped, offering her cup. "Want a sip?"

"No, thanks. I was getting ready to go outside." She shuffled over to the coat closet and dug through it haphazardly. "If I can find my coat."

Hisana blinked. "I did some cleaning about a month ago. Your coat's in your room. But I don't think it's a good idea to go out in this weather. You could get sick."

Rukia just kept quiet. Usually, when her mother said things like that, it was just her gentle form of 'no'. She took a seat across the table.

Silence was a very common thing among the younger Kuchiki and her mother. They didn't ever really have much to discuss, other than small talk. It wasn't that they didn't like each other; but they weren't very compatible, friendship-wise, and it would be a waste to try and cultivate good conversations between them. Rukia ran her fingers through her hair; Hisana tapped her thumbs on the teacup. Silence, silence. Blessed silence.

After about twenty minutes had passed, Byakuya came down the stairs, in his robe for once. Rukia could honestly say that she hadn't seen him in anything other than a suit since she was ten years old.

Byakuya didn't like tea. After pouring himself a cup of black coffee from the pot Hisana must've heated earlier, he sat down next to his wife. He would not make any difference in the atmosphere, since he was just as silent as they were, but he did ask his wife a question. "Where has our snowblower gone?"

Hisana blinked her large, pale lids. "It's in the garage."

"I looked there. Honestly, I suspect that Mashiro girl."

"Mashiro?" Hisana looked amused. "No, she isn't a thief. She would have asked."

Byakuya's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure about that?"

Mashiro was a spritely, spunky young woman of about twenty who lived next door to them, with her father, a stock broker. She constantly wanted to borrow appliances, most notably the toaster oven. She was easily recognizable by her bright green hair, cut into a bob, and her incessant talking. Rukia had spoken to her on several occasions, and their conversations usually had to do with something being missing from their house.

"Not certain, obviously." Hisana shrugged. "We could buy a new snowblower, dear. It's no bother."

Her husband was too busy glaring at the teacup. Rukia was surprised it hadn't shattered under his gaze. "I still don't think we've misplaced it. Did you lend it to Renji and Akamori?"

"No, Akamori loves snow. She didn't ask." Hisana looked confused. "Maybe Mashiro did take it. We ought to lock up the garage, then, so it doesn't happen again."

"We ought to prosecute her for theft," Byakuya murmured, but Hisana ignored him in favor of Rukia.

"Any plans for the break, dear?" she asked.

"Not really," Rukia said, a knee-jerk reaction. Before she could correct herself, however, Toshiro arrived in the kitchen and opened the fridge. She noticed that her parents didn't berate Toshiro for simply reaching into the fridge and getting food – but he wasn't their son, so there was some lenience there.

Byakuya and Hisana excused themselves silently, and went back upstairs. Rukia was grateful for a moment alone with her cousin. "You okay?" she asked.

"Phenomenal," he said stiffly, pouring himself a glass of milk. "I'm going to the villa today, and Senna agreed to go with me. Now it's going to be ridiculously awkward."

"You don't know that," Rukia replied. "She might just... err..." at this point, the younger Kuchiki child was lost for words. "It'll be okay."

Toshiro shot her a look and closed the fridge. "Not everyone can have a perfect fairy-tale romance like you and Kurosaki."

Quickly, Rukia became defensive. "It isn't a romance at all."

"Please. We all know what you did when you went to 'go get some air' last night. Personally, I think it's a good match. You both annoy the living hell out of me." He made his way over to the closet, inside of which a single coat hung forlornly. He took it out and buttoned it up. "I'm going to check the mail."

Rukia's lips twisted. Of course Toshiro would tease her endlessly about Ichigo, but a part of her almost wanted that. After all, Rukia had never even been in a relationship before. "Fine."

He returned after a minute or two, clutching a few bills and something new. "You've got a letter," he said.

She felt a frown crease her forehead. "A letter?" Rukia didn't correspond with any of her relatives, and she didn't keep pen pals. "From who?"

"The school." He smirked. "You might have gotten kicked out."

"There's no reason for me to be," she reminded, but still had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. She glanced at the envelope, and it was indeed the school's address. She ripped it open.

_Rukia Kuchiki,_

_We are very glad that you are considering joining our tennis team. Report to the gym on January 9, 2010, for tryouts._

_-Kaien Shiba, Coach_

She rolled her eyes. "Dad's two steps ahead of the game with this tennis thing." Rukia crumpled the letter up and threw it in the wastebasket, making a mental note to mark her calendar for tryouts. "So, when are you heading to the beach?"

Toshiro sighed. "I'm meeting Momo, Senna, and Kira for lunch at two."

"It's noon now. You might want to get ready."

"What's to get ready?" he said darkly, shoving his hands in the coat pockets. "I'm a guy. I don't primp."

Rukia looked away from him. "Don't let this whole Senna thing depress you. You didn't know she had a boyfriend."

He put a hand up. "Let's just stop talking about it. It's stressful. I'll sort things out with Senna later on. Would you like it if I brought up Kurosaki every fifteen seconds?" his tone was heavily spiteful, and Rukia rolled her eyes.

"Please, Toshiro. If you're going to insult me, at least be intelligent about it." And with that, Rukia stood up and passed him, going upstairs to her mess of a bedroom.

Her phone was waiting on her vanity. _1 New Text Message._

**Fr: Ichigo  
We can hang out later. Maybe. I'll try and convince Dad.**

Her heart leapt. Quickly, she replied, **All right. Let me know if he says yes.**

The reply was instantaneous. **He probably will. He likes you.**

She slipped her phone in her pocket, feeling on edge. Since last night, the security blanket feeling seemed to have multiplied tenfold, and it was taking a mental toll on her. Rukia pulled on a pair of jeans and a simple navy turtleneck, and slipped on her black parka over it. She wondered if perhaps she should wear makeup. She owned a lot of it, but had never worn it. Oh, well. Now didn't seem like the time to mess with it.

Rukia fought with her boots—apparently, they were getting too small—until they were on before sitting down on her bed, clicking through the texts again. As usual, she hadn't missed anything, but she still felt mildly disheartened. Ichigo probably wouldn't even reply. He was probably going to avoid her because of what had happened last night.

Feeling disoriented, she watched a few old sitcoms on her small television, not even really taking them in. Had she messed everything up with Ichigo? The thought was unbearable. Around two hours went by before she turned off the TV, burying a hand in her thick hair.

Her phone beeped and she felt her heart beat faster, before she realized that it was only Orihime, asking if she wanted to come over later. Rukia told her that she would have to ask her mother, but of course that was a lie. She would, truthfully, rather see Ichigo right now. Rukia got off of her bed and went downstairs, and evidently Toshiro had already left, because his shoes were missing from the shelf by the front door.

Rukia poured herself a bowl of cereal, since she was craving sugar, and ate it in less than three minutes. She was ravenous. And anxious.

**Fr: Ichigo  
He said you can come over. **

Rukia had to exhibit a fair amount of self-control to keep herself from audibly squealing. **Okay. When are you going to come and get me?**

**Whenever you want, I guess. Now?**

**Get your ass over here, Ichigo.**

* * *

_I traveled half the world to say... I belong to you.  
_-Muse

* * *

"I threw up at a Bob Evans one time, and now every time we pass it, Mom says, 'there's Senna's Bob Evans!"'

"Oh, that's nothing!" Momo laughed. "When I was in the first grade, I told a boy I liked him, and then he threw up on me." She went red, noticing Kira's expression. "But he must've been sick."

"Ahhhh, I'd hate that," Senna said, chewing on a piece of ice. "One time, Tasuko and I were at Home Depot, and he threw up in one of the model bathtubs." She seemed sad. "He had the flu for a week."

Toshiro tensed at the mention of Senna's boyfriend, who was still very much a surprise. She didn't seem to be acting out of the ordinary, though, which annoyed him – did she not take notice of his anger? It didn't seem like it. He wanted very badly to spurn her, to bar her from coming to the villa – but for some reason, he couldn't do it.

"Anyway," he said. "One of you made detailed plans for this week, if I remember correctly."

"It was meeee!" Momo squeaked. "On Monday, we're going to the opera..."

And so, the brunette went on to describe the upcoming week's events. Toshiro just watched Senna eat, wondering why she had not bothered to mention Tasuko before. Had it been deliberate? Or coincidental? He found it intensely hard to believe that a teenage girl would go weeks on end without mentioning her boyfriend unless she had some form of ulterior motive. But given the events the previous night, that might not be the case. He chewed on his straw.

"Has anyone really been far even as decided to use even go want to do look more like?" Senna said, staring at her French fry.

Momo grinned. "I knew I wasn't the only one who said that."

Then Senna met his aquamarine eyes, and spoke in a low voice. "Toshi, what's wrong?"

"You know already," he said smoothly, and she turned away, looking frozen. Momo had suddenly fallen silent.

Kira cleared his throat. "Um, anyone want something else to drink?"

"I'm fine," Senna said in a monotonous voice, now making a noticeable effort not to meet Toshiro's eyes. "I've already had three Sprites."

Kira nodded, looking away.

Toshiro fished for conversation. "Momo, how's your mother?"

The question was relatively unrelated, but she didn't seem to think it was weird. "Fine, she misses you. She wishes you would visit us more often."

"Maybe I will, near the end of the break. Did you ever find out what they're doing with my house?"

"Someone's renting it."

"Really."

"Yeah, an old couple."

He smiled. "Have you been checking?"

She nodded. "Duh. I don't wanna forget your old house, 'Shiro. We had so many awesome times there."

It had occurred to him for a moment to ask her a question that would perhaps get under Senna's skin, but he wouldn't resort to such childish things. "I wonder what they're doing with my room."

She shrugged, and then engaged herself in a quiet conversation with Kira. _Damn it. Now I'm stuck. _He pulled out his phone again, clicking through the inbox, until Senna said something.

"Toshi."

He looked up, his breath catching.

"Pass the salt."

And he did, but strangely, she didn't even use the salt. She just drummed her fingers on the shaker, and he figured she must be thinking. Perhaps she was regretting what she'd done. Perhaps she was thinking about how much she missed Tasuko. There was no way to tell.

Eventually they were all finished with lunch, and the tab was split equally among the four of them. Toshiro drove them to the station, and called Hisana to pick up his car. He made small talk with Momo as they bought their tickets, whilst Senna skulked behind the three of them, her hands in her pockets. In her green jacket with brass buttons, and a tilted beret, she looked like a toy soldier fresh out of the box. He couldn't stop staring at her, not only because he was attracted to her, but also because he was intrigued. What did she have to be upset about, anyway?

The four of them settled into a compartment. "I love trains," Momo said. "I always feel like I'm on an adventure."

"Me, too," Kira said softly, but was watching Toshiro. The Hitsugaya heir had seemed tense ever since they met at the restaurant, and he knew it had to do with Senna. "I think we should go to another compartment," he told Momo, and she blinked.

"Why?" she didn't whine, just simply asked.

"Just because," he said, shooting her a look. Momo didn't understand, but she followed him out of the compartment anyway.

Once the door was closed behind them, Toshiro expected Senna to jump up and apologize for what she'd done. But she didn't, and then he wondered what compelled him to hope for such things.

"You lied to me," he said simply.

"I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you everything."

"That's bullshit." His tone hardened. "You let me get my hopes up, just to tell me that you've got a boyfriend. You're a tease."

Senna stood up, her stance very rigid. "I am _not _a tease," she said defiantly, her dayglow eyes steely as she glared down at him. "I'm not a tease and I'm not a slut."

"I never called you a slut," Toshiro said, his words barbed.

"That's what you're implying." She was relentless. "I'm not a slut."

"Then why did you kiss me?"

"I like you. That seemed like the best way to show it." To his surprise, she went red. "Now that I look back on it, it was idiotic."

"You like me?"

"Yes. But I love Tasuko. I'm not going to give that up. I'm sorry." She pursed her lips, and Toshiro felt frozen on the spot. He knew she didn't think of him that way, but it still stung, and though he tried not to show it, she could see the hurt on his face. "What difference does it make? We can still be friends, can't we?"

"Yes." Toshiro found his voice flat.

"I like you," she repeated. "We get along. I think you're cute... but I..."

"I get it," he cut her off. "Let's stop talking about it. We're friends. You've got your perfect boyfriend, Tasuko, Mr. Good-At-Everythi—"

"Don't do that," she said blackly.

They both fell silent, and Toshiro was fuming. Senna _was _a tease. But then again, she'd said she liked him. "If you didn't love him, would you give me a chance?"

"I don't see why I wouldn't," she said, but her voice was cold. "After all, you haven't screwed up majorly yet, so that's got to count for something." She was sitting back down now, wrapped up in her tweed coat, loose strands of her hair now free from her beret. "By the way, Merry Christmas. I forgot to tell you."

"Yeah. You too."

* * *

_You've got to lose to know how to win.  
_-Aerosmith

* * *

When Ichigo pulled up to her house, Rukia was already waiting for him outside. His car was bejeweled with ice crystals under the bumper and on the windshield wipers. She smirked as he rolled down the window.

"Strawberry."

"Midget." He gave her a noncommittal look, and immediately she sensed something off about him. Today would not be a good day. Today, they would argue. All the same, she felt that jittery happiness as she got into the passenger seat, the happiness she always felt when she was around Ichigo.

He left the grounds quickly. "So, how was your night?"

"Fine, I guess. I dealt with Toshiro for a little while, but I got a good night's sleep."

"Senna?"

"How'd you guess?" she blinked, fiddling with a loose thread on her parka.

Ichigo shrugged and readjusted his off-season sunglasses. "I'm observant. They were acting weird at the dance." He flipped on the turn signal as they came to the four-way intersection of the neighborhoods. "Anyway, Dad wants to give you a Christmas present. Says his third daughter needs to be rewarded, or something."

"Whatever he wants," she said absentmindedly, watching Ichigo closely. Usually when she did this, she could discern what type of mood he was in. It was unclear, but something told her it wasn't good. Again, she thought of the scenario she'd imagined earlier—that everything was messed up, that he hated her for it. "By the way, are you pissed because of what happened yesterday?"

He was quiet for a moment. "It's confusing," he said at last.

"How?"

"Because, it just is. Can we talk about it later?"

"No. I want to talk now."

"Rukia!"

"Fine! But you're not getting out of this." She turned away from him, and she felt as if she had acted irresponsibly by bringing it up after being with him for such a short period of time.

They spent the rest of the ride in silence, as Rukia went over every word. Maybe if she'd worded it differently... as they passed Renji and Akamori's neighborhood, she thought again of her sister's awful mood, but dismissed it from her mind. Stress seemed to be coming at her from all angles.

At last they pulled into Ichigo's driveway, and she sighed. Car rides always gave Rukia time to think, but she thought that maybe if she didn't think about it, it would resolve itself. _That is bullshit and you know it, _she told herself. _Work it out._

Ichigo simply sat in the driver's seat, after taking the key out of the ignition, staring at her. Rukia had always loved the feeling of his eyes on her, but right now it was different. A new sensation.

He sighed, exasperated. "Fine. I'll say it. I fucking love you, all right?"

She felt her breath catch. "Ichigo?"

And this time it was he who initiated the kiss, and even though it was shorter, it seemed to be urgent and with more purpose. He leaned over the glove compartment, but didn't make any move to grab her like the night before. She broke the kiss.

"I know you do," she said, and opened the door, her boots hitting the sidewalk with a thud. He sat numbly in the car, thinking about her, and how simply unreal this all felt. Rukia waited by her door until he finally got out.

"Mm," he said, looking expectant, as if he wanted her to walk ahead of him. She did.

Yuzu answered the door before she even had the chance to knock. "Rukia's here!" she called into the house with her trilling soprano, and immediately Isshin came running with a large blue box with a green bow.

She smiled. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, third daughter! Open your present!" Isshin seemed so alight with almost girlish glee that she sat it down on the table and opened it blindly, her mind still on the kiss, and the man standing behind her who had given it to her. Inside the large green box was a smaller box, and inside that an even smaller box, until there was a blue jewelry box. She felt her stomach lock up as she pulled out a pearl necklace.

"It was Masaki's," Isshin explained. "Ichigo thought it was a good idea!"

"I did not," Ichigo muttered.

"Th-thank you," Rukia stammered, unable to fully express her gratitude. Isshin, however, was more than satisfied.

"I TOLD YOU ALL SHE'D LIKE IT!" he announced to the household, and the twins rejoiced. Ichigo stayed behind her, as quiet as ever, as Isshin tittered on about the necklace. Rukia thanked him numerous times and slipped it on, feeling greatly warmed by Masaki's necklace. If they had elected to give her something of Ichigo's mother's... she thought about it. Did they hold her on family level? She had only been here a few times... but then again...

She walked over to the massive Christmas tree, taking in the lights and feeling heavy with emotion.

"Dad," Ichigo said. "We're going to my room."

"Make me proud!" Isshin exclaimed, but this time Ichigo didn't bother with insulting him, he just strode off down the hallway. Rukia followed.

His room was messier than usual, his bed unmade, a few magazines strewn about. But Rukia barely noticed. She was too busy watching him—but he seemed preoccupied.

"Ichigo," she said, taking a seat on his bed. "Do you want to talk?"

"Yeah," he said, joining her. His trademark scowl became a conflicted look, and she could tell that he made no secret of it this time. "There's a problem with this. It's confusing me."

"Same here," said Rukia, feeling relief roll off of her. She surveyed Ichigo, in his black jeans and dark blue sweater, which contrasted strongly with his hair, and a smile crept across her lips. "I spent hours last night wondering if we were dating, and I'd missed the hint."

"I didn't ask," he said, and then slowly, he looked as if he'd realized something. "Do you want me to?"

"Yeah, but..." she sighed.

"If we date, our friendship will get all screwy," he said, nodding. But then they shared a look. "Doesn't stop me from wanting to, though. We could try it..."

"Maybe we could just go on a real date. Not just as friends," Rukia said, testing the waters. "Like, you know..."

"Yeah. We could go to dinner or something." Ichigo realized that this was not how most dates were made, and again he felt the pang of insecurity that always accompanied him when he made decisions like this. "I really want to, Midget."

She winked. "Or we could just hang out here."

He rolled his eyes. "With Dad? That's an ordeal, not a date."

"Ichigo," she said, her eyes far off. "How do you know that our friendship would be messed up? It might get better, you know."

He looked away, but his hand closed over hers. "Weird as this is, I'm calm. But really, Rukia. Toshiro and Senna's friendship is all fucked up now."

"They didn't date."

"But he liked her. You see where that got him."

"She's got a boyfriend already. She doesn't like Toshiro like that at all. Me and you, we like each other."

Ichigo still didn't seem convinced. "I don't like the idea of losing everything we have just to make out all the time. No matter how much I want to."

"You don't understand." Rukia sighed, pulling her hand away. "It's not going to be about that. Everything'll stay the same."

"Then what's the point in dating?" he was frustrated.

"Because if I dated you, I'd know I was the most important person in your life," she explained in a surprisingly steady voice.

"You already are," Ichigo said, raising his eyebrows. "If you haven't figured that out, I did something wrong." He looked out the window, beyond which the clouds had made way for the sun. Rukia looked away from him, too, trying to find a way to convince him.

"Ichigo," she said. "We wouldn't lose _anything _we have. I wouldn't let that happen, you know me better than that. Trust me on this..."

Ichigo felt nauseous. "Rukia, I can't."

(oh, god)

(he didn't just say that)

"Why can't you?" she said, not even thinking the words. "Why can't you d-do this?"

"You want me to be perfectly honest?" he said, and Rukia felt as though she might have a heart attack. All the possible things he could say rocketed through her already numb brain. "I'm scared. I told you already."

"You don't trust me, do you? If you trusted me—"

"I trust you!" he bellowed, getting off the bed quickly and raking his hands through his hair. "I do trust you. I want you. But I don't know if I can have you. I would fuck it all up. You know I would!"

"You never fuck anything up!" she said vociferously. "Stop downing yourself, that's one thing I can't stand about you, Ichigo. You're not the one who's going to fuck things up. I'm the one with the family from hell."

"Your family has nothing to do with this, and you know it. Stop making excuses. Akamori and Renji had that problem—"

"They're _miserable_," she said, her voice finally cracking. "Can't you see, Ichigo? Don't follow them. They defied everything that was good for them!"

"Good for them?!" he said, outraged. "You're so immature sometimes, Kuchiki! Shit happens, it doesn't matter about family! Everything in a relationship hedges on the people who are actually in it!"

Rukia's breaths were erratic. "Me and you, then, Ichigo. We could make it work."

He closed his eyes, his voice finally back to an acceptable volume. "I... you're just... Christ, Rukia." In a flash, he had her in his arms, and Rukia felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. "Let's just admit it. Both of us are fucked six ways to the weekend."

"We are, but none of it matters when I'm with you," she said, realizing how cliché she sounded, but running out of reasons to care. "We'll never know if we don't try, Ichigo. That's one thing you'll agree on, right?"

"Yeah." He separated himself from her, all of him but his eyes. "I would've never thought this would happen."

"Me either," she said. "I guess I always thought you'd just be the arrogant asshole of a friend who saved my panties from thieves."

He laughed dryly. "Nice first impression I made on you, eh?"

"Mm," she said, remembering that day. "Personally, I wondered if you thought I was an insane psycho freak."

Ichigo gave her an incredulous look. "I always have."

"Well, you know. I was weirder around you when I first met you. Now everything's... too easy." She locked her hands together, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Yeah. I used to think maybe we'd just keep meeting to give each other presents. I was a real retard then."

"Ichigo, it was only six months ago."

He thought about it for a minute. It had only taken six months for him to fall completely, ass-backwards in love with Rukia Kuchiki. "Yeah. It's funny looking back on it now. I was thinking about you a hell of a lot more than I should've been. For a second I wondered if I was insane."

"Yeah. I was obsessed with you," Rukia admitted. "I was always just _waiting _for someone to bring you up, because I was too scared to do it myself. I didn't want anyone knowing."

"Can't blame you," Ichigo replied, smiling faintly. "I couldn't keep it a secret, though. Dad wanted me to talk about you all the time."

"I'll bet." She grinned.

At that point, there was a knock on the door. It was Yuzu.

"Ichi-nii," she said brightly. "Can I bring you guys some ice cream?"

"Yeah. Sure, Yuzu." The way he addressed her seemed more willing. "That'd be nice."

Yuzu tilted her head to the side. "Rukia, why are you crying?"

Rukia let out a little laugh, wiping away the tear with her scratchy sleeve. She smiled at the child. "I'm going nuts," she said quietly, and Yuzu laughed as she walked away..

* * *

_Bless your sweet mistakes, that crumble you down to your knees,  
That brought you to this place, changing you by degrees...  
When change was just what you needed..  
_-Ellis Paul

* * *

"Ice cream doesn't usually make me so tired."

"Maybe you're already tired." She had been here since two, and it was now nine. They'd sat around all day joking around and eating, trying to forget their argument. It wasn't enough, really, but for now he was willing to block it out.

"Are you kidding? I slept in till noon." Rukia yawned and leaned her head against the wall, kicking her shoes off. Ichigo watched her indefinably, his amber eyes vague. "I'm really tired of you looking at me like that," she pointed out. "If you've got something to say, then say it."

"...I've got to go to the bathroom," he said after a long while, getting up and ignoring her questioning look. On his way down the hall, he bumped into Isshin. The older man winked at him, and he rolled his eyes as he walked into the bathroom.

Ichigo stared at himself in the mirror, as if his own face would give him reassurance. Was Rukia planning on spending the night? How would that go over with her parents? Worse, how could he deal with it? He was fifteen, after all, and damn, he wanted her...

There was a knock on the door, and he physically jumped. "What?!" he snapped, irritated.

It was Karin. "Hurry up in there, I gotta go."

"You've got your own bathroom," he said blackly.

"Now!" she insisted, pounding still harder on the door. "N—"

At this point he opened the door, not because he was annoyed by her, but because he was eager to get back to Rukia. He didn't even remember walking into his room until he was there, and there she was, still sitting against the wall, staring at him.

"This is awkward," she announced.

"Yeah, pretty much." Ichigo was still standing up. He could barely control himself as his heartbeat banged in his ears. "So, uh, you wanna watch a movie or something?"

She seemed far too aloof. He knew she was acting. "Fine. I don't care." She reposed her features and stared up at him again, with one soft blink. "You're trying to ward everything off, Ichigo, just go with it."

He sat down. "What do you mean, Midget?"

Rukia shrugged. "Well, you know. Talk to me. Let's talk like we used to."

He frowned. "That's kind of impossible."

Her mouth twisted into an odd shape. "It doesn't really have to be. Look, Ichigo, I know you're having a hard time with this. But you don't have to be so nervous. It's just me."

"I know. That's what makes it so frickin' hard," he muttered under his breath.

Rukia gave a wry smile. "I feel the same way you do, and you know it." With that, she closed the distance between their lips, giving him a chaste kiss that she broke quickly. A hazy quality seemed to have overtaken her eyes as she watched him, stutter-shook as he tried to talk, to argue somehow. "I changed my mind... no more talking."

She kissed him again, and this time he responded. Ichigo felt as if the world around him, his messy room and his annoying family, were swirling into the distance. His fingers tousled through the thick black hair, and she barely registered the fact that her back had hit the floor. He was making noises, ones she hadn't heard before but had longed to hear. Noises of arousal.

With a wet noise he left her lips and moved to her neck, his eyelids half closed over shadowy eyes as he sucked at the skin directly underneath her chin. Rukia couldn't keep her voicebox from responding, try as she did; and as he moved lower, shuddery whispers of breath mingled with her voice, becoming moans. Their current predicament felt like a distant dream.

She guided his hands to her breasts, and his eyes flew open. "W-what are you doing?" he asked in a surprisingly calm voice, though his eyes couldn't hide his excitement. "Rukia?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" she said with a coy smile. "It's alright, Ichigo. We aren't five years old."

"We can't jump into this, Rukia," he said, shaking his head. "We... can't..." but his hands seemed to have a mind of their own, and she was relieved to know that he wanted her as she wanted him. She should've felt embarrassed as he pulled open her shirt buttons, but she didn't. With Ichigo, it didn't seem to matter. "Christ," he breathed at the sight of her white bra. It was more chaste than he'd expected, but he was torn wondering if that was a good or bad thing. "I really..." Red rippled across his cheeks, and she smiled at the sight of him. "I really can't..."

She stared at him. "If you don't want to do anything like this, then we won't." She couldn't keep the disappointment from her voice.

"It's not... that simple. I want to, I can't, though... it's..." _Fuck. Not this. _He could feel an insistent tightening in his lower body. "It's not... we're not dating..." his heartbeat was an unsteady thrum as he tried to ignore his growing problem. He averted his eyes from Rukia, but they found their way back again. Their waists were perfectly lined up, _oh God. _"Rukia..."

She hadn't expected him to act like this at all. "I'm really not trying to pressure you, Ichigo. We both want it, can't you tell...?"

"Of course I can tell." He thumbed her bra straps. "You know what would happen if we went on like that, I'd—"

Rukia raised her eyebrows. "I'd forgive you," she said quietly, and as their eyes met, he knew that this was no act. She really wanted him. He imagined what it could be like, and the thought was accompanied by a particularly strong pulse of his erection. He reddened, realizing that it wasn't exactly obscure, and she could probably see it. His anxiety increased.

"God. Damn. You. Kuchiki," he muttered, looking away. "Why do you have to be so.. damn..." his right hand slipped under her bra, and he felt his breath catch as he brushed against a nipple. "Oh, _fuck..."_ Immediately he removed his hand and looked at Rukia, who didn't seem upset in the slightest.

"You don't have to act so mad at yourself, you know," she pointed out, smiling below him. This only made it worse.

"I already do," he nearly growled. All the nerves in his hand felt aflame. "We can't do this."

She blinked. "Oh, Ichigo..."

They were silent for a while, Ichigo staring at the ceiling, Rukia staring at Ichigo. He had the opportunity to touch her, to even have sex with her if he wanted, and he turned it down? Was she not good looking enough for him?

No. That wasn't it. Rukia was too smart to think that. Ichigo had made it very clear that _she _was the one he wanted. And she would hold him to that.

"Tonight we can forget about everything," she said quietly. "It can just be you and me."

"We can't have sex," he said, conflict warring openly on his face as he shook his head. "It can't happen, I'm sorry."

She felt like an idiot. "Ichigo, you—"

"You're being a child," he said, but his tone was anything but accusatory. "You don't understand. Look at what happened to your sister."

He had her there. Rukia stared at him. She felt more and more foolish by the second. "I feel like you're going to resent me after this."

"I won't," he said. "We got all caught up again."

"We don't have to have sex," she said cautiously, "but you can do anything else you want. I've been waiting for this for too damn long, Ichigo. So have you."

He closed his eyes. "Rukia... you want to date me, but when I say no you..." he closed them tighter. "This is really a stupid way to try and convince me."

"I'm not trying to convince you of anything. You made it clear you don't fucking want me," she said flatly. "So why don't you just take me home now, Ichigo? Why don't you just keep leading me on tomorrow?"

"I'm not leading you on. Believe me. You know how I feel."

She waited. He stood.

"But you just can't date your friends," he went on. "It doesn't work."

"It CAN work. It CAN. You're just too damn scared to try." She scrambled to her feet, her shirt still hanging open.

"I can't believe this is happening." His voice sounded stiff. "I can't believe this."

"What?! I'd think you knew everything about what's going on. You don't want to date me."

"Of course I want to. I already explained it. Every single thing will change. I'll get obsessed with you and I won't be able to keep my pants on. Before you know it we'll break up and we'll try and try to fix the friendship, but we'll have both burned out."

"Is our friendship really that weak?" she sounded hysterical, even though she wasn't crying. "Is it really that much of a lie?"

"Nothing's a lie," he said quietly. "I don't think any of the days we spent last summer were a lie. Lying in the field together, was that a lie? All those times we used to die laughing at the dumbest shit? Everything is real, Rukia. _Everything. _That's why I don't want to lose it. If we do it'll be... a waste..." he turned away.

"Ichigo..." Rukia let out a breath. "Nothing is ever a waste with us. Don't you know that? If everything is real, it's strong enough..."

"Just listen," he said. He seemed frustrated with himself, raking his hands through his hair. "Christ, you've got me screwed in the head, Kuchiki. You've always done that to me. That's how hard I fucking fell for you."

"I can't ever stop thinking about you. Not while I'm awake, not while I'm asleep. I want you to be my boyfriend," she said, her eyes hard against his.

And the amber orbs softened, just a bit. "I know how good it could be... I could try... but I'm telling you..."

"If it doesn't work," she cut across, "we'll stay friends. I will _make sure _of it. But I'm tired of arguing, I really am... for sure this time..." she sighed. "I know how you feel. I understand. I don't want this friendship ruined either. I was being dense."

"We both were. We just need to get a few things straight before we jump into this."

"Right." Rukia tried to stifle a yawn, but Ichigo noticed it.

"Go to sleep," he said with a wry smile. "We can talk about it in the morning."

"I'm sick of arguing," she repeated. "No more." She slowly got under the covers, and he followed.

"We're always going to argue," he reminded, his eyes tired."There's no escaping it... but I know what you mean. We're being completely stupid about this, both of us. We can talk, actually _talk, _tomorrow."

"I can't carry on like this forever," she said sadly. "Please, Ichigo, please... try with me..."

"I love you," Ichigo said firmly. "Don't act like I don't. I want you to know that, all the time."

"I love you too. There's only one way I can show you how much."

He was facing the opposite wall, but she could tell he was smiling by the sound of his voice."I'll let you... okay?"

Her heart leapt. "I—I..." She hadn't expected him to even consider it. Suddenly she felt like a live wire again.

"Good night, Midget..." with that, he turned the lamp off.

* * *

_You could be my unintended  
Choice to live my life extended  
You should be the one I'll always love.  
-_Muse

* * *

As expected, Hisana called early in the morning to ask when Rukia would be home. Isshin told her that she could stay as long as she wanted (naturally) and Hisana didn't mind if she stayed a little while longer. At this point, the younger Kuchiki child was still sound asleep, but Ichigo was awake and brewing some coffee. His father took the opportunity to approach him at the counter.

"So, son," he said happily. "I heard some things last night..."

"We didn't do it," Ichigo replied. "Sorry to get your hopes up."

Isshin frowned. "I was talking about your argument. I heard it."

"Don't you mean you were listening?" Ichigo asked sourly, checking the timer for the coffee.

Isshin shrugged. "If you're having issues with asking her out, you should just do it. You like her, so go for it."

Ichigo mumbled a string of unintelligible words before finally nodding. "That's basically what she told me. She—wait, why the hell am I talking to you?" suddenly, he looked appalled. "What the hell do you know about asking a girl out?"

"A lot," Isshin raised his eyebrows. "I was married once, you know." His eyes flicked toward the poster of Masaki. "If you don't make your move when the getting's good, you might not ever get another chance."

"What?"

"When your mom and I first started dating, she wanted to get engaged right away. I said she was going too fast... but then, she ran off with some guy who would commit fast. I almost lost her."

Ichigo's heart beat faster. "There's a big difference between wanting to date someone and wanting to get engaged to someone."

"Not at your age, really," his father replied, shaking his head. "Listen to me, Ichigo, I'm givin' ya pearls here. Rukia likes you, you like her... but if she starts to think you don't care, then, she'll stop trying. It's a personality thing. She's a lot like your mother used to be. It's all or nothing."

Then Ichigo realized. Rukia was right. Their friendship wouldn't be ruined if they worked at it, if they wholeheartedly tried. She had told her she loved him, and goddamn, he loved her back. He could hold her and kiss her whenever he wanted and not feel awkward anymore. Ichigo Kurosaki felt the dilemma that had been coasting his subconscious for months now simply evaporate into the wind.

"Rukia..." Ichigo said, thinking of her, asleep in his bed. "Listen, old man. Usually you're no help."

Isshin raised his eyebrows.

"For once, you knew something," Ichigo finished.

His father smiled brightly, and it seemed as if he was going to say something cryptic. "Your coffee's done," he announced, as the timer beeped.

* * *

_  
Staying awake to chase a dream,  
Tasting the air you're breathing in,  
I hope I won't forget a thing._  
-Muse

* * *

Ichigo's car pulled up to the huge gate in front of Rukia's house, and his heart thumped rapidly. Rukia was gazing sleepily out the window, her eyes vacant, but he knew she was thinking about the night before. And so was he.

She turned to him then, and a sigh escaped her lips. "I'll text you later—"

But he grabbed her hand. "I told you we were going to talk."

Immediately, her eyes widened, but she didn't seem surprised. Just alert. "I told you I didn't want to argue with you." Pieces of her hair were falling out of her blue hat, framing her astute features.

"That's not it," he assured her.

The hum of the engine should have put Ichigo at ease, but it didn't. "Listen to me, Rukia. I know you think everything you tell me goes in one ear and out the other. But last night I was listening to you."

"I know you were. I could tell." Rukia's demeanor was on the cusp of excitement.

"Look," he said, and the words tumbled out like a waterfall. "Be my girlfriend, Midget?"

For a moment, her face was impassive. "Do you really mean it, Ichigo?"

"I do," he said with absolute certainty. "I don't want to lose you. And you're right. Dating you is the only way I can really show you how much I—"

"Okay," she said, her cheeks a bit tinged. "I'll be your girlfriend, skyscraper. You don't have to be so nervous. You knew I'd say yes." She smiled a huge smile then, and kissed him full on.

There was only one word repeating in his head.

_Finally. Finally._

_Finally._

_

* * *

_

**Thanks for reading this... I know it took me FOREVER to update it, and I'm a total bitch for taking so long xD But, I think I did pretty well on this one, even if it's not as long as I'd originally planned. I seemed to be getting 2948239058349 messages asking me when it would be updated (not literally of course), so I picked up the pace. Anyways, happy new year to everyone! (: One of my resolutions is to meet new people, and that must include you guys! So, send me a PM with your email—I love a good conversation, and I'm sure you do too! In other news, I'd like to thank you all for reviewing last chapter. [/dork] Anyway, parts of this were a headache to write... their arguments actually effect me very strongly, since I'm the one writing them, but you guys, did you like it? (: I hope.**

**I do love a nice review. ;)**


	24. Barriers

SLTM update, yeah, I know, you want to stab me and then watch me rot.

But yeah, here I am updating, and the lateness is because (as I'm sure you know) I'm horrible and I keep procrastinating/deciding to work on other projects, the latter of which is not exactly something you can blame me for, because when inspiration hits, I've gotta go with it, it's hard to explain. _She's Like the Moon_ and _Violetta _(Code Geass) are the only two projects I'm working on atm, so you should see updates more frequently now, not every year or so :'D I'm working on being un-horrible and un-annoying.

Also, my writing has gotten about a thousand times better since the last time I updated, I dunno how to explain it. Maybe I've just grown as a person, or just a writer, or both. Both, I think maybe, because in the past few months I've been through quite a bit, especially pertaining to my love life. I'm a lot less idealistic, more realistic, but don't worry, I still believe in love. I just kindasortamaybe have a love-hate relationship with it. Don't we all.

It's been difficult to make the transition back into writing SLTM, because I've been writing a story with characters so blatantly different, I had to read through the story again to get back into the minds of Ichigo and Rukia.

I'm going to stop yammering on about shit you don't care about. Just read the chapter. I hope you like this one and think it was worth the (regrettably) long wait. :)

**she's like the moon  
24**

. . .

_Darling, you can be so unforgiving, you can be so unloving, you can be misunderstanding, but I don't know how, to feel without your love  
It's another night, with the moon in the sky; it's another night, with that look in your eye_

Is it me and you,  
or is it me and the moon?

_. . ._

"What the hell is this?" Toshiro said sourly, casting a disdainful look down at his pretzel. "It can't _possibly _be a pretzel." Nonetheless, he takes another bite of it and locks eyes with Rukia. "Why are you convulsing?"

"It's cold," she reminded him quickly, locking her arms around herself. He continued to bite into the pretzel he so hated as he skulked away, probably looking for Senna and Tasuko, his favorite group in which to act as the third wheel. Rukia, on the other hand, remained huddled underneath the tree, staring at her snow-dampened boots and wondering where the hell Ichigo was. He was supposed to meet her here twenty minutes ago (after a bit of a tussle over how stupid school functions were, she'd finally convinced him to show up for _just a little while). _And now she was alone, without even her pessimistic, love struck cousin for company.

Her solitude was relatively short-lived, however, because Orihime arrived not fifteen seconds later, holding a tray of covered drinks. "Hot chocolate, Rukia?" she was truly a sight to behold, in her glittery angel outfit the Student Council had undoubtedly slaved over. Her eye makeup teetered precariously on the line between avant-garde and just plain overdone. "It's sugar free!~"

"I'm fine," Rukia breathed, smiling and directing her gaze toward her lap. "Have you seen Ichigo?"

Orihime shook her halo-encrusted head. "No, I haven't... I'm sorry." But her attention span, as short as it always had been, had fizzled out already, and she was now engrossed in the crowd. "Oh, there's Uryu!" and she was gone as quickly as she had come. Rukia got to her feet, a tad irritated, with a mind to find her orange-haired boyfriend on her own.

She was quickly enveloped by her classmates, shouting hellos and, in Keigo's case, asking her to dance. She wouldn't. In her opinion, it was a stupid idea to hold the Winter Bash outside when it was a maximum of nine degrees. Still, everyone else seemed to be having a much better time than she did; then again, everyone else wasn''t looking for Ichigo, were they.

At last she caught sight of him, and that inevitable Ichigo-smile crept across his lips when amber met beryl. He was, surprisingly, with the happy couple and Toshiro, the white rain on their parade. "Hey, it's the midget," he said, readjusting his hat so less of his forehead was covered.

"She isn't _that _short," remarked Tasuko, but it fell upon deaf ears. Rukia hadn't seen Ichigo since the day they started dating, and the swelling in her chest at their reunion could overshadow the most brazen of remarks.

As if a switch had been flipped, he broke away from their friends and walked beside her. "So, are you tired of this place yet?" he asked in that breezy voice, casting a wary gaze at the crowds of students.

"Sort of." _Not now that you're here. _"I was looking for you."

"Kinda got caught up with Mr. and Mrs. Kouji," he explained, jerking his head back toward the pair, "and Hitsugaya," he added as an afterthought. "Sorry about that." A normal boy would've tried to manipulate her into forgiveness with an apologetic look; but Ichigo wasn't a normal boy. He seemed laissez-faire as always.

_Take me or leave me, _he seemed to say, in every action and word that came from him. She liked that.

"I understand. Keigo was trying to get me to dance with him."

"God help us," he sighed. Orihime came through the throng, still balancing her heavy tray.

"Hot chocolate?" she asked sweetly, hopefully. It didn't seem like anyone wanted the drink, and she wasn't being paid to serve them, so what was her deal? Did she honestly enjoy parading around in a too-tight, glittery white polyester getup that would take hours to get out of? To Ichigo, that seemed like the only feasible possibility. He humored her and took one. "You're the first person tonight!" she said excitedly, prancing off with a new spring in her step.

"So little to make her happy," he said, and Rukia smiled. "Anyway, where do you get off on coming here, anyway? Just to see me?" though if the cocky smile on his face was any indication, he already knew the answer.

Rukia smirked. "You? Oh, please. I'm still holding out for my knight in shining armor."

"Would an idiot in tin foil be good enough?" he asked in mock-disappointment.

"Why not." The smile they exchanged nearly knocked her off her feet; she felt like the girly-girl she never quite was, and this feeling was so powerful it bordered on tangible. "Hey, isn't that Mizuiro?"

"Hm?" Ichigo looked over, and sure enough, it was their dark-haired friend, dressed in complete Rudolph costume. He didn't quite understand why the party was Christmas-themed, with the New Year already among them. "Jesus Christ, him too?"

"At least they have something to work at, you didn't even want to come tonight."

"I didn't have anything better to do, other than stay home and watch Cops." But truth be told, Ichigo had been keening to see Rukia all day long, his nerve endings twitching with excitement with the very idea of bickering with her, or berating her for her height, or kissing her. All three were equally rewarding in his eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, voice relatively quiet. Within Rukia's gaze was a consternation, strong enough to jarr him, scare him a little.

"No reason." She tried to lose her mind in the music that was warbling through the crowd:_ I'm gonna give all my secrets away... _

However, like Orihime's attention, the span of time she could spend looking away from Ichigo when he was around was painfully short. When he was back in her line of sight, he was peeling a piece of bark off a nearby tree. Now, Ichigo wasn't easily distracted, so he was either thinking hard or trying to avoid an awkward moment. Or perhaps he liked peeling bark off trees. "What are you doing?"

"Hm? This tree's dying," Ichigo said absentmindedly, scowling a bit. "The landscapers need to take better care of this place." Ichigo was only making small talk because frankly, he wasn't sure how to go about speaking to Rukia as her boyfriend, rather than the skyscraper that seemed to be joined to her hip. "So, how's your sister been holding up?"

"I haven't talked to her." Akamori and Renji, however selfish it may sound, were the least of Rukia's problems. Her sister had always been moody, she should be fine before long. "How are Karin and Yuzu?"

"The same. Karin's starting on the junior soccer team." He thought of his dark-haired sister and her vigor when it came to sports, and smiled. She had been vying to wear some kind of jersey for as long as he could remember, and now she finally could. "Dad seriously cried when I told him. Said his little girl was leaving him forever, or something."

He honestly worried about his father's maturity levels and if they could be the result of a pituitary imbalance.

Orihime bounded through the trees, noticeably hindered by her complicated costume as she hurried toward them. "Did I lose him?"

"Mm? Lose who?" Ichigo asked, only vaguely interested.

"Tasuko!" she said in a breath. "He was trying to pull my wings off!" she pointed toward the fake wings and continued taking those greedy breaths; evidently she'd run a long way.

"Sounds like something he'd do." Ichigo didn't know the heir to the Kouji fortune very well, but was aware of his desire to cause mischief. "Just tell him to go after Mizuiro. He'd have a field day with that."

"Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear," said Rukia, and indeed, the brunet rounded the tree to Orihime's left, a feral gleam in his jade eyes.

"Gotcha!" with one swift move he yanked off Orihime's wings; she made a noise like a wounded animal. "What? You'd never be able to use them again, anyway."

"Might I ask why you want to ruin everyone's costumes?" Rukia raised her eyebrows at her fellow student.

Tasuko thought it over. "Why not?" he asked finally, a dimple popping out as he smiled. "Come on, Kuchiki, have a little bit of fun."

She shook her head; Tasuko Kouji was a mix between charming and tedious, a mix she didn't want to mess with. He was such a child, and she knew already that she wouldn't fulfill Byakuya's wish of becoming his friend.

"Whatever makes you happy," she said sagely, turning her back to him. Ichigo followed her and so did Orihime - a tiny part of her deflated at the realization that her desire to be alone with him was again impeded.

"He's such an asshole," Orihime said, and the cussword from her mouth was awkward and painful to Rukia's ears. Her best friend was the poster child for the stereotypical good girl and hearing such language from her was sure to shake anyone up. "I don't see how Senna puts up with him."

"I'm sure he doesn't treat Senna that way." From what Ichigo's seen, the man in question treated Senna with the respect one would extend to a _real _angel, rather than one in plastic wings. He's struck with the sudden and potent need to show Rukia he can do just the same, probably better, as soon as possible.

The middle Kuchiki child brushed her hair out of her eyes, twisting her lips. She loved Orihime to death and enjoyed her company, but now, of all times? It was as if the fates didn't want her to be alone with Ichigo for longer than a hot minute, and she despised the fates at that moment more than she ever had.

The three of them walked together, an angel, a midget, and an orange-head, through the din of the trees, silent for a myriad of reasons.

Snow fell, nothing more than barely-visible baby flakes, upon the trees and already blanketed ground. Rukia felt a twinge of regret in her stomach; should she have even come here tonight? Inside she felt - _maybe - _she should've stayed home and just called Ichigo, because then she could have him all to herself, to talk to and belittle and blush over and anything else she fancied.

Not trudge through crunchy snow and listen to Orihime blather over her Tasuko problem, which she could easily mollify with a good 'fuck you'.

Eventually her orange-haired friend told them how tired she was and took a detour through the trees, wandering off toward whomsoever she had suddenly decided she wanted to see. The weight on Rukia's chest lessened as she and Ichigo wordlessly gazed at one another, elated to finally be alone in the atmosphere that only graced the air whenever they were united – one of good friends, lovely smells (Ichigo's cologne, Rukia's hair) and that nonverbal understanding that they were to be completely at ease, in that unbelievable reality of the other's company.

But she didn't jump on him as originally planned. She simply stared, a quiet happiness resonating within her as her brain reiterated that _yes, _he was finally hers and she was finally his. She could finally put her name on him and call him her boyfriend, and not be unsure and stutter-shook inside with the _what are you to me _mentality. "It's a new moon."

Brown eyes flicked skyward. "So it is," he said, giving her that grimace/smile he always did when he was feeling messy inside, when he didn't know what to do or what to say. She obliged his nervousness and broke their gaze, taking his gloved hand in her own and watching him relax in earnest, standing a little taller, looking a little more sound.

She was hit by the urge to lay in the grass with him like she did that night in summer, but the snow on the ground posed a problem, so she stood, her mittened hand enveloped in his, the other in the pocket of the overlarge coat that fell to her knees. Rukia felt entirely at ease and yet disoriented at the same time; perhaps the latter was because she isn't used to being this happy, happy at all, really. She thought it was almost comical that it was a new moon when she herself felt new, refreshed in a way that was so cliché it almost made her sick.

But it didn't. It just made her feel that much better.

. . .

...And that good feeling was entirely too fleeting.

Maybe it was because her hair was stuck to her face because she had no time to brush it, or because she was cooking another meal in Home Ec. that Yoruichi would inevitably inhale before the end of the class period. Or maybe it was just because she was in school, the one place she was starting to hate more and more. Or it could be because Tatsuki was her partner, and they weren't on speaking terms.

_Why is it so hot in here, anyway? It's January._

She pushed open the cookbook and looked at the recipe; some complicated egg recipe with a foreign name she didn't understand. A low, pulsing pain took up residence in her temple as her eyes coasted over to Orihime and Senna, who were scribbling on the blackboard (**Save the Whales! **and **S.S. + T.K. **respectively). They had finished their annoyingly easy project (pancakes) thirty minutes earlier, leaving the rest of the class to slowly asphyxiate in the heady fumes of cooking as they wrote their idiotic messages.

Rukia sighed. She had to figure out a way to coax her inner self to less venomous thoughts.

Tatsuki neglected to ask her questions, merely looked into the cookbook and followed the directions. She seemed content to do all the work as long as she didn't have to talk to Rukia, which the blackette found to be painfully immature but also deeply upsetting. She could think of a thousand ways to go about apologizing but it just didn't seem right; after all, Tatsuki had been the one to get jealous of Ichigo and throw it in her face. She could do the damn project by herself.

"I DID IT~" a voice that sounded suspiciously like Keigo's carried throughout the classroom, rousing Yoruichi from her hour-long slumber. The dark-skinned woman gave an irritated _harrumph _and lapsed back into dreamland in record time. "I CAN NOW SAUTE ONIONS!"

"And it only took me an hour to teach you," said Ichigo tiredly, his brown eyes bleary as they shifted up to look at the clock. He really hated block scheduling. "Now, I already cut the lettuce for you. Make sure you season it all."

"Gotcha, Ichigo! You're a great partner!" he said, a bit hoarse; he probably had a cold from scouting around town for girls.

"Am I, now." Ichigo smiled not because he was truly flattered but because it was all he could really do at that point. Anything more boisterous would excite Keigo to the point of catastrophe.

He looked round to see Rukia sitting at the table, sweating buckets. He approached her, and his heart thumped lowly in his chest as it always did whenever he indulged himself with such proximity. She looked up with eyes rimmed by sweat, darkened by fatigue.

"Whatever happened to the air conditioning? It's fine in every other classroom."

"I don't know." And Rukia dropped her head back to the table.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, his scowl intensifying. "You don't look so good."

"It's hot and Tatsuki won't talk to me."

"Why not?"

"She hates me."

He vaguely remembered Rukia telling him something about Tatsuki getting angry over her so-called betrayal, and blackballing her from trying to rekindle their friendship. "She'll be okay," he says, looking over at the short-haired combatant.

"No." Rukia's hair was stuck to her forehead. "It won't be okay. Nothing's okay."

"You sure you don't have heat stroke?" Ginger eyebrows rose.

She deadpanned in response. "Ichigo."

"Fine… you'll feel better up in the dorm. I'll crank up the AC." He tried to be a good, compliant boyfriend to her over the past few days, but she had reacted with indifference, treating him the same as she always had – gruff, honest, and painfully nonphysical. Still, he did not throw in the towel; because Rukia had always been very stubborn.

"Nnn…" she acknowledged as she pressed her cheek against the hard surface of the table.

"You could say thank you," he said, in a bludgeoning attempt to be playful. She replied with nonchalance.

"Thank you, Ichigo."

They were quiet for a little while, the orange-head watched his girlfriend in her near-catatonic state, and said girlfriend pondered on what would be the quickest way to suicide in this classroom. He thought fleetingly of comforting her, but she'd probably slap him, and he'd never been good at that, anyway. "What did Senna and Orihime have to make?"

"Pancakes," Rukia replies flatly, looking up with a new determination in her eyes. "They got to spend fifteen minutes over their project while everyone else gets to slave in the heat."

"Yeah, but what's done is done," Ichigo says easily. "They won't learn anything from it." Though he did envy them for getting to cavort about mindlessly, writing their stupid proclamations of love and charity phrases all over the place. Orihime really should have been learning about cooking as much as she could. "Anyway, whatever happened with your mom? Did she have it yet?"

"No, she's two days late," Rukia's brow furrowed. "They'll have to induce her if it takes much longer."

"Hell." Ichigo blinked. "Is there some kind of problem? Since she's been sick and everything."

"I hope not." She propped her head in her hand, gazing across the table. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing." _Except I've been having this little problem where I don't know how to talk to you as a girlfriend. It feels weird. _"I just hate the cold." As if to emphasize this point, Ichigo pushed back the yellow sleeves of his sweater and mimicked Rukia, propping head in hand, and mirrored her dead expression. "Am I dating a zombie, or what?"

She sighed. "I'm just tired of this class."

"Everyone is. Yoruichi eats everything." His gaze flicked over to said teacher, who in her slumber was surrounded by copious plates and utensils - her seventh eight-course meal of the day. He scoffed. "She's just as lazy as Urahara. They're perfect for each other."

Rukia fully opened her eyes this time around, blinking away the haze of tiredness. "Speaking of perfect for each other, why haven't I seen Toshiro with Senna lately?"

"I think he finally woke up and smelled the roses. She doesn't like him." The purple-haired acrobat was giggling with Orihime in the corner as they passed a sheet of manila paper - presumably a note - back and forth across the table. "I kind of felt bad for the guy, chasing her like that."

"But that's love," Rukia said. "He'd chase her no matter what."

Ichigo stared at her, the resonance of that statement taking a bit longer to sink in than it should've. He wouldn't admit it, but since he loved Rukia, that law would probably apply to him as well as any white-haired midget with a God complex. "Guess he doesn't love her then, if he gave up."

"No," she pressed, "He just acknowledged the truth and got realistic. He can admire her from afar."

"You're contradicting yourself."

"Human nature," she explained.

Senna took that opportunity to skip over to them, the piece of Manila paper clutched in her jittery hands. "Rukia~ hi! You look sad."

"I'm overheated." She swept thick blackness off her forehead and continued, "What've you got there?"

"A list of people I'm nominating for Prom queen and king."

"You're not old enough for Prom," Ichigo reminded her with an annoyed look. "Isn't that only juniors and seniors?"

"I can dream, can't I?" she said with her signature pout, ochre eyes alight. "Besides, what are you two doing? Aren't you supposed to be cooking instead of flirting? Hey, are you guys dating?"

Shortly dazed by Senna's perilous jump from question to question, Rukia got her wits about her and answered "yeah".

"Wowwww," she looked from one to the other. "Tasuko said you were. I wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. Because you're just do different looking! Not that that's a bad thing, I mean me and Tasuko are different looking, but not _nearly _as different as you two - wait, how long have you been dating? And who asked who?" she grinned like the Cheshire Cat as she regarded them with those unusual eyes, subtly bouncing from one foot to the other. The entire effect of her was overwhelming.

"I asked her a week ago," Ichigo replied, exasperated. He isn't annoyed by the questions so much as the girl asking them; while she was a gentle soul, Senna was verbally a force to be reckoned with; eloquent, but endlessly irritating. "Now go play nominator."

She stomped her foot. "Why are you so _mean, _Ichigo!" but hurried off to titter with Orihime without missing a beat, leaving the Strawberry to his girlfriend and his (relative) peace. He turned his head and looked once again at Rukia, who was smiling. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing." And she wasn't entirely sure why that sunny grin had suddenly cropped up on her face; then again, that always seemed to happen in Ichigo's presence, so she left it alone.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

"_Nngh," _she said pleasurably as she collapsed onto her bed, which seemed much softer than usual. Ichigo leaned against the doorjamb. "_Finally._"

"Taking a nap?" he asked, disappointed but not about to show it. "You look dead on two feet."

"I love you too." She turned over and faced the wall, the delightful heaviness of her eyelids convincing her that a nap wasn't such a bad idea after all. "You can come over here with me, you know. I'm not going to rip your head off."

An awkward look crossed his face, but only for a millisecond. "You sure?" he asked, and when there was no answer, he obliged, climbing behind her and settling onto his back. His heart thrummed when she sidled over against his chest, which suddenly rose and fell more rapidly than before. Despite the fact that Rukia had been sweating for the last hour, she still managed to smell nice, and he let himself falter for a moment, dropping into the pleasure zone that he was always permitted to enter when he was close to her. The rest of the time, that zone was just out of reach.

Ichigo exhaled, his brow relaxing. Rukia's breaths were slowing and he knew that before long she'd be dead to the world, so he said, "Good night, midget."

"It's 3:00," she said, voice surprisingly clear for someone a moment away from sleep. "Good afternoon would work."

"You're going to sleep."

"So?"

"Never mind. You ruined it." They fall into silence again, her cheek pressed against his sternum and his arm bent around the small of her back. He ignored the fact that they were still both in complete school uniform, even down to Rukia's knee-highs and Mary Jane shoes, because he was dead against the idea of asking her to move. Any cerebral flutter of offense was promptly dismissed; he could not be annoyed, vexed or even plagued by sour memories with _her _so close to him, _she _the midget, _she_ his girlfriend.

That fact still hadn't totally sunken in yet; great things always take a while to.

Rukia sighed softly and turned over. "I can't sleep," she said irritably.

"I have pills for that," he offered. "In the nightstand." Because at night he usually couldn't quite get regrets and mistakes off his brain; a nervous bleeding of mean things he'd said, and of course the memory of his mother. Ambien usually did a wonderful job of slapping his mind silly and tucking away those laments for later use.

"No." Blue eyes opened. "I can't sleep because you're here." She said it with a mixture of dismay and excitement; a strange cocktail for someone complaining.

He huffed. "You asked me to be here."

"I know."

"So what gives?" He pushed a hand through her black hair - tangly, at that moment - and guided it off her pale face, cool from the wintry air they'd escaped when entering the dorm building. She crinkled her nose. "Why are you looking at me like I'm nuts?" Not that she hadn't spent the vast majority of their friendship giving him that particular look, it's just that it's inappropriate at such a time.

"I'm saying I want to lie here and talk to you," her voice faltered at the declaration of a tender feeling, and this resulted in her adding a clipped "idiot" to the end of the sentence.

He looks at her and asks bluntly, "Why couldn't you have just said it?"

"I guess forthrightness is beyond me," she said sarcastically, burying her face again in his chest. "I'm not like you."

After getting over the initial jolt of sensation her contact caused, he countered, "There's a difference between being forthright and being a jackass."

"The two go hand in hand." Rukia's voice was a low rumble against his ribcage. "What's wrong with you, Ichigo? You're about to have a heart attack."

"Yeah. Wonder why." He looked at her pointedly and she raised her eyebrows in what might have been a challenge, but what also might have been just a muscle jolt. He wagged his eyebrows.

"Oh, so it's because of me." Her voice was rougher, haughty.

"Obviously." He rolled his eyes but caught himself smiling in response to hers; it was just that easy to fall back onto her, and he liked that.

Until she had to go ahead and ruin it with her _talking. _"Do you have homework?"

"An asston." Ichigo kicked off his shoes, letting them clunk unceremoniously to the floor. Rukia, however, left her Mary Janes on, and this irritated him. "Come on, midget, do we have to that right now?"

She said matter-of-factly, "It _is _important, you know. If you don't get a 3.0 or higher they'll throw you out of the dorm and force you to commute." As predicted, she had actually researched what would happen to the students who would inevitably flunk out, with the irrational fear she would become one of them. "So yes, we do have to do it right now, Ichigo."

After removing himself from the train of thought that the phrase _we have to do it right now _evoked, Ichigo grumbled something like '' and got up, trudging into the foyer to get his bag. "I can't believe you want to do homework," he muttered. "Is the heat getting to you that much?"

"No, I'm just learning to prioritize," Rukia replied staunchly, as she zipped open her bookbag and unearthed a hefty binder. "You should learn from me. Your grades aren't the best."

"I'm in the top twenty in our grade," he reminded with a hint of pride; but immediately Rukia brought him back to earth, as she always did. She had always been good at keeping his ego in check.

"But you _should _make top ten," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "You're very smart, Ichigo."

"Whatever." He flipped open his Chinese textbook and, instantly irritated by the hodgepodge of symbols, closed it again, having decided to work on his vocabulary instead. This consisted of copying from the book. "Since when do you care so much about this stuff? Prioritizing?"

"I don't want to be like Akamori," she said bluntly. "Now, define _parsimonious."_

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,.,.

Toshiro was tired of being in second place.

He didn't usually ponder about the Senna situation on such a powerful level; but while he sat there with the two of them, under the orangish lights of the school cafeteria, he began to dive deeper into the recesses of his predicament. Tasuko was clearly detached from her, while she saw him on par with something like a god, something he would never be. After all, Tasuko Kouji was a stuck-up princy boy who'd worked for nothing – and for that he was adored?

_C'est la vie, _he thought bitterly as Senna laughed at some stupid joke she'd probably heard Tasuko tell a million times. He looked over at Momo, sitting next to him, and she granted him a sympathetic look; and his heart lightened. Without her fey grace and understanding he'd probably be chasing skirts full time, rather than focusing on schoolwork as she constantly chided him to do.

He propped his face in his hand, cool green eyes flicking up to the ceiling. If he got so worked up over Senna and her quiet rejection, why did he put himself in situations in which he'd constantly be reminded of her?

But why not? Why not sit here and bask in the little bit of Senna that was reserved for him, the smiles she'd shoot his way, and when she'd laugh at one of _his _jokes (much more tasteful than Tasuko's) or agree with something he said? He knew he could always find a reason to put himself on the receiving end of her selective attention; after all, it satisfies him like nothing else. And behind all of it, there are those words: _I like you._ He'd been good enough to warrant _liking _from her, and he'd given it his all. He was more than a friend, but something much less than a love interest. Regardless of status, the implication that she had feelings for him was still _there, _the pulse beating beneath his efforts, the driving force behind this madness that was his affection for Senna.

Because that's what it had been since day one: madness.

He didn't know her very well at all, and that's what made him feel so ridiculous. They had talked at length only once or twice, and about trivial things like sports and family, and while he could feel himself skirting around a connection with her, there had never really been one, as a result of little time together or her refusal to get close to anyone other than Tasuko, perhaps both –

"Toshiro," Momo repeated a bit louder as she poked her entranced friend in the shoulder. "What do you think you want to eat?"

"Ah-mm," he replied intelligently, cursing himself inwardly, "I'm not sure yet." He hadn't even laid eyes on his menu, internal turmoil having taken precedence over food.

Senna was engrossed in her menu, and Tasuko busied himself with his Blackberry. They were together all the time, but he rarely saw them touch or exhibit any body language that would even imply they were in love. Maybe that was what happened once you'd been with someone for a while. The young Hitsugaya really wouldn't know. Maybe they just weren't very touchy-feely.

(but he would like to believe they just don't like each other anymore)

"I think I'm having scallops," he said sharply, and slid his menu into the middle of the table where it joined Senna's. Her dayglow eyes came up to meet his, then jutted away after half a second. "I've always liked seafood."

"Do you _know _how much toxic waste they dump in the ocean?" Tasuko asks, his green eyes aflicker. "My father was in the Navy, and –" he was cut off by the waitress, who took their orders with an affable smile on her pudgy face. When she left them, Senna and Momo were chattering about Home Ec. - which was by no means a thrilling subject, but to girls everything was worth making a mountain out of a molehill. This left Toshiro to look up at Tasuko, who was watching him with a feral look in his eyes.

The shorter male shot him a look of mock-confusion, then turned his gaze to Senna, who was all laughter, dimples, and eyes, and forgot all about establishing rivalry. With the flick of a wrist or a sway of hair, Senna could make him forget his own name.

How'd he ever get in so deep?

_.,.,,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,._

_I think I like this more than studying._

Ichigo held Rukia's foot in his hand, and looked up into her expectant eyes. She had told him rather grumpily that if he didn't want to do homework he could massage her feet instead – something he hadn't exactly jumped for joy at, but hell, it was better than looking up thirty-something words in that monster of a textbook. But the kicker was he didn't exactly know _how _to do this; though it seems fairly straightforward, he was convinced there was some magical technique she hoped he would possess.

He rubs experimentally, pulling her short toes between his fingers. Her eyes slipped closed in relaxation, and she said, "I think we should go out and do something later."

"Izumi's?" he asks.

"Let's go somewhere we haven't been yet," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe to an American restaurant." For a while she had been craving the loaded hamburgers and other Western concoctions, and opportunities for dining out while staying with her family were few and far between.

"Fine." Ichigo thumbed her heel. "Just don't sit by the window again. It brings unwanted eye contact."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Keep rubbing."

He did just that; but as things went, he wasn't too good at it. He'd always rub the wrong toe, or, he'd rub too hard, then Rukia would yell at him. However, he enjoyed nothing more – because when it came down to it Ichigo figured he would take yelling, hitting, berating – everything short of attempted murder would only intensify his feelings for the spritely blackette. Because his sense of what _love _is, would be her. Her round face, sharp words, and gentle intentions. Her prim –

"Didn't you hear me?" she said again, and lobbed a pillow at his orange head. It missed and knocked her alarm clock off the bedside table. "There's someone pounding on the door."

Jerked from his reverie Ichigo willed himself away from Rukia and shuffled to the door, opening it to see none other than Orihime. "What is it?" he asked, a bit more gruffly than was necessary.

Her grey eyes flashed. "You have to let me in, Ichigo!"

"…why?" he asked, lowering his voice a bit.

"Because I found a scrapbook me and Rukia made in sixth grade!" she beamed, holding up the tattered pink photo book with as much pride as one would hold their firstborn son. She leaned over him to call, "Rukiaaaaa!"

Light footfalls alerted him of Rukia's presence; she appeared over his shoulder. "I can't believe you found that. Does it still have me in my Chappy outfit?"

Ichigo sighed as Orihime nodded enthusiastically. Before he knew it they were prone on the living room floor, chattering as he prepared the tea Rukia somehow swindled him into making (though he was sure it had _something _to do with that authoritative blue gaze telling him to). When he re-entered the living room, they were whispering; quickly, he dodged around the corner.

But Rukia spotted him. "Ichigo!" she said, a bit annoyed. "Quit trying to listen in."

Nearly dropping the tea, he just settled on bringing it in and putting it on the hardwood in front of them. Admiring Rukia's behind he thought languidly of his homework back in the bedroom, and was the teacher actually going to check those definitions? Probably not. He scratched through his orange hair and sighed; Orihime always found a way to infringe on his solitary-Rukia time. But Rukia didn't have a problem with it, so he'd just have to suck it up.

Because it was an unspoken rule, that Rukia always got what she wanted.

"Oooh, look at this!" Orihime jabbed at a photo and then she and Rukia erupted into laughter; ginger eyebrows creased, Ichigo wondered what girls found so funny about drawing on peoples' faces when they were asleep. If anyone did that to him, he'd tear them a new one.

He wasn't sure exactly how much time passed; an hour, maybe. Ichigo didn't typically wear a watch. But after a while, the taller girl got up and stretched, yawned in her soprano way, and told them she was going to turn in.

Upon shutting the door behind her he said, "Turn in? It's 5:00."

Rukia shrugged. "Turning in to Orihime probably means making something inedible and then taking a three hour bath." She remained on the floor, sipping her tea and looking at the photo book. "Hey."

He looked up. "Hm?"

"If we live together here, how come you haven't jumped me by now?"

Ichigo's face spasmed and reddened, quite possibly at the same time. "What the hell kind of question is that?" Apparently the kind that painted a devilish smile across his girlfriend's face, and turned his nerves into putty.

Her smile intensified. "Never mind then," she said, suddenly nonplussed. "Clearly you don't have the guts to do anything like that, anyway."

"I do so!" he said raucously. "It's called respect!"

Through lidded eyes, she looked up at him again. "Who needs respect when you have a girlfriend?"

"I—why would you say something like that?" he demanded. "What reason would I have not to respect you, you know—you know I always—"

Watching him stumble over an emotional declaration, she smiled. "Relax. I was testing you. You pass." With that, she emptied her teacup, picked up the book and walked into the kitchen, looking at him sideways as she went, from the other room she called, "I think it's cute that you want to be respectful. You don't see that much nowadays."

He followed her. "Come off it; don't bring 'cute' into this. How about 'Ichigo, you're a good guy, end of story?'"

Rukia thought it over. "That could work too," she finally decided, starting the sink and dumping a liberal amount of dish soap into it. "You don't have to be a good guy all the time, though. There's room for error."

Ichigo leaned against the fridge, crossing his arms. "What kind of error?" bubbles floated up from the sink and into the air. He watched her pop them with her small fingers, and a wistful smile crept across his usually terse lips.

Content that the last bubble was vanquished, Rukia answered, "Well. Like I said earlier. Good boys don't jump their girlfriends. And good girlfriends want to be jumped, right?" she scrubbed at a dish that was at least a week old; lasagna sauce could be a bitch after long periods.

"Are you saying you want me to jump you?"

She looked up into playful amber eyes. "Logic would dictate that, yes." With that, she picked up the hand nozzle and sprayed hot water over the blue dish, her brow crinkling as the sauce was not diminished even in the slightest. "But not at any random second. When it's time, you'll know."

"Mixed signals," he grunted, and she laughed. Bubbles coasted up again and this time he waved them away; she glared and continued to scrub the stubborn china. "I don't get why they put us in this dorm together. That's really stupid."

"Are you unhappy about it?" she asked flatly, as if he could ever be.

"No, I just wonder why they'd give high schoolers co-ed dorms," Ichigo rationalized, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of water. "I mean, there _are _people who jump each other all the time. Like, daily."

"Are you saying that's what we should do?" delicate black eyebrows rose and Rukia flicked water at him.

_It would be nice. _"Nah, it's just different with us. Like you said. The right time." A moment passed. "When is that, exactly?"

Rukia chuckles. "Oh, Ichigo. So simple. You'll just know. And if for some reason you're too stupid to pick up the signal, I'll tell you." She nearly threw the blue dish onto the counter, leaving it there to sit. Hopefully the sauce would migrate somewhere else. "It can't be like that because of—well, look at Tasuko and Senna."

"They're happy."

"They _look_ happy. But they're so tired of each other I think they're both just dying for a way out. Which is why Toshiro is involved in the whole thing." Rukia shakes her dark head, thinking of her cousin's predicament and trying to generate a way to get him out of it. But he'd gone for the girl, and he would reap what he sowed, as would Ichigo. She smiled a bit at that. "Dry those off. They're going to get spotty." She threw a paper towel at him.

"Jeez. Is this what it would be like being married?" he groaned, wiping at a cup that already seemed dry, for the most part.

"Being married doesn't necessarily mean you have to do anything. But if you don't stuff falls apart pretty fast. Just look at my sister."

"They're not married."

"Come on. They basically are."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," he grumbled, staring at the annoyingly resilient blue plate. "Can't we just be quiet for a little while?"

Rukia turned the sink on, her hair falling over her eyes as she bent. "Sure, why not," she said in a breath, seeming rather harried as she continued her work. From watching her Ichigo deduced that she did dishes a lot, which to some degree was surprising, since he figured she had hired help to do things of that nature. However, it did seem kind of unlike Byakuya to hire servants to do things when he had his own kids. He had the air of someone who could be pretty tyrannical if they put their mind to it.

Eventually, though, he found himself piping up. "Hey, what were you saying earlier? About dinner?"

She wiped her face with a clean paper towel. "We look pretty disgusting," she reminded him, gesturing to her soapy shirtfront and his wet slacks. Still he stared at her. "Where did I want to go?" because Rukia, bless her soul, was rather forgetful.

"American food," he supplied, having remembered her rather stony proclamation of that particular craving while he was rubbing her feet. "And we _do _have a shower, you know."

"Mm." Rukia began to put away the now-cleansed dishes. "I know that. I'll get ready. Give me a few minutes to get this done."

That he did; sidling into the living room, he found the forgotten photo book. Curiosity getting the best of him he flipped open to a random page, and struggled to repress a snort when he saw Orihime, Tatsuki and Rukia dressed as rabbits. It was an old photo; they appeared to be about nine or ten, all the same height for probably the only instance in recorded history.

"Ahhh, yes, the Child's Day Festival," said a very suddenly-there Rukia, whose new aroma of dish soap should've given her away but didn't. "It wasn't my idea. Orihime really got into that stuff."

"Doesn't surprise me." He closed the album, sitting it down on an already-precarious stack of books decorating a nearby end table. "Now go take your damn shower. I don't have all day."

"This 'conflicted-but-well-intentioned' thing of yours is only charming about fifty percent of the time," said Rukia rather distantly as she sauntered past him into their bedroom. "Besides, it'll take me way longer to get better than you. Why don't you go first?"

Ichigo thought that over. "Fine. But don't get into any crap while I'm gone."

"Don't worry. I'll leave your porn alone."

"—No, I—"

"Your face is clashing with your hair. Now go." Rukia winked and threw herself down onto her own bed, opening a book she'd checked out from the library in a fit of boredom. She'd whipped a chintzy romance novel off the shelf last minute, after waiting through Toshiro's thirty minutes of perusing. He'd tirelessly searched for some creepy book on the Third Reich, which equally terrified and amused her. Nowadays he was a lot darker-minded.

Regardless of what she'd teased him about, Ichigo didn't have any porn; in fact everything he owned was in plain sight, from the Shakespeare books to the endless pairs of jeans, ignoring the rather substantial closet-space he'd been allotted. With a crooked smile she surveyed his belongings, wondering if he really was as innocent and _well-intentioned _as was projected. Probably not.

He came back, toweling wet ginger hair. "Your turn." He started to dig through piles of clothes as her petite silhouette passed him by, fully intending to be casual for dinner. Rukia sure as hell didn't dress up for anything other than government holidays, so why should he?

Ichigo slumped on the floor, legs crossed, looking idly through his cell phone. Nothing in there other than boring _when are you going to get here my son _texts from Isshin (a relic of last week's visit home) and Rukia's snippy little messages that he'd anticipated far more than kind ones from anyone else.

Sometimes he worried. He really was in deep.

She drifted back in, wearing dark pants and a gray turtleneck. Oddly enough she didn't seem bothered by his seeing her without makeup; but Rukia never seemed self-conscious, not in front of him anyway. Not that there was any reason why she should be, but it wasn't often that girls broke the shy-and-modest mold. More than that, Rukia had transcended a lot of expected perimeters even so early on in their relationship. She really was something. "Now, where exactly are we going?"

Dumbly, he replied, "No idea." And got up. "Where do you want to go?"

Rukia cocked an eyebrow. "Hey, what happened to you? You look doped up."

"I was just thinking."

"About what?"

He shook his head. "Go dry your hair or something, Jesus. It creeps me out when it's flat."

Eyes roll, "Your hair creeps me out all the time. And don't worry, it'll be poofy soon enough." She reassumed her position on her bed and stretched out like a cat, thumbing through some book to find a page. Her ass looked nice in those pants, he thought idly. Okay, maybe not so idly. "What're you staring at, Strawberry?"

He didn't answer. He just sat next to her.

"Oi, what gives?" she asked, looking irritated now. Rukia lobbed the book at him. "Do something, anything?"

Ichigo kissed her.Well, it was something. Really, really something. Rukia's mind buzzed with delicious nothingness as her mouth moved against his, his snarky tongue sliding against hers. Peeping open an eye her heart palpitated at his face; so _happy, _unencumbered and blissful; so when she closed her eyes again thin arms closed up around his back, feeling his pleased breath against her mouth. It was strange, really, that his barriers could be broken down with something as simple as a mesh-of-tongues and cementing of chests. Then again he was a teenage boy, complex but still barbarically simple.

She smiled into the kiss and responded with enthusiasm, enthusiasm then doubled by her boyfriend. They bonked heads and laughed fleetingly into their shared cavern, long-fingered hands thumbing at the bottom of her shirt before slipping underneath it—

Until another knock on the door interrupted him.

_What. The. Fuck. _

A rather flushed Rukia cleared her throat, "Aren't you going to get that?"

Annoyance slithering heavily up his spine, Ichigo got roughly to his feet and grudgingly left her, yanking open the door and preparing himself to spit venom at whoever dared to interrupt—

Byakuya Kuchiki's heather-gray eyes wiped away any offensive intentions he may have been harboring. "Where is my daughter?" he asked rather lowly, his eyes flickering judgmentally about their dormitory.

Rukia came into the room, her back straighter than usual. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her color still rather high.

He pursed his lips. "Your mother wanted me to come and tell you in person that you have a younger brother. He was born last evening at seven fifty-six."

Her eyes wider than what seemed humanly possible, Rukia spluttered, "B-But I thought it was supposed to be a girl."

"Modern medicine is… often faulty," Byakuya reminded, a tiny sliver of pride seeping through his façade. He finally had the son he'd always wanted, the man who'd ensure the survival of the Kuchiki name. Rukia found his pleasure quite endearing; it was so rare to see any warm feelings touch down on her father. "Well, that was all she wanted me to do. Good night, Rukia." With that, he pulled a string of lint off his black suit and walked stiffly away.

Ichigo closed the door behind him. "That's crazy," he said. "Byakuya Kuchiki junior." He snorted. "Imagine that."

"Let's hope he's not a hardass," Rukia replied, scratching idly at her right side.

He stood awkwardly, watching her contemplate the newest addition to her family, and wondered if she still wanted to continue their—activities. If she did, she made no indication of it, just sauntered into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.

"You know," is the phrase she used to break the rather heavy din that's settled upon them once she returns, "I don't really feel like going out tonight." As if on cue a yawn escaped her and she saw that Ichigo wasn't really affected by this news; in fact he seemed almost catatonic. "Ichigo."

He looked over. "Sorry. I was just thinking about…never mind. It's nothing."

"About how you didn't get to stick your hand up my blouse?" she said the words with an almost charming languor. "Patience, Strawberry."

His amber eyes thinned a bit. "If it weren't for Byakuya, I would've gotten to."

She pursed her lips, teasing with her fathomless blue eyes. "Maybe tomorrow."

And then Ichigo was alone again, cursing uptight fathers and snarky girlfriends.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

It was a good thing he was so pessimistic; that way he didn't expect anything. This, however, was a double-edged sword; as he watched Rukia in class and walked with her in the hallway, she teased him to small glimmers of hope that would all too soon be extinguished.

He loved her, and therefore loved spending time with her; but he often interpreted her winsome smiles as more meaningful than they actually were, in the erotic sense, of course. Perhaps that was just the curse of all teenage boys. It was strange, the sudden onset of physical ardor. Before he'd always known Rukia was attractive, admiring her in a detached sort of way, like looking at pictures of scenery. Now, however, that she'd confirmed her feelings for him as well, it was as if a switch had been flipped.

Gym class was the most difficult, for reasons I'm sure the reader can predict.

Insanely, he wondered if she'd forgotten about him, not even looking at him for the majority of the day. Then again she was intensely focused on her schoolwork, and could be seen taking detailed notes at any given moment. He just wished he had ambitions like that.

At lunch, they spoke. "Hi," he said.

She smiled. "I was wondering when you'd talk to me. You really are bad at this boyfriend thing."

"I—"

"I'm kidding." She took a bite out of her sandwich. They sit alone at one of the round tables, unbothered by scores of their annoying peers. He liked it this way, just the two of them. No annoying Keigo or bitchy Hitsugaya to put a damper on the mood. "Anyways, isn't it strange that my dad showed up in person? He could've called."

"I don't think it's strange at all," Ichigo groused, his mind a whir with the thousands of reasons why Byakuya Kuchiki would want to barge into their dorm. Come to think of it, why hadn't he called the school and demanded Rukia be moved out of there already? He shook his head and moved the unappetizing slop on his plate around with a plastic fork, watching peripherally as Rukia ate her sandwich with much more enthusiasm. "I'll be back."

Halfway back from dumping the offending mess he nearly collided, who glared cool grey daggers at him before returning to his own seat (next to Orihime, across from Tatsuki). Without time to slip in a snide remark Ichigo just skulked back to his table, where Rukia was looking through a book.

"Did you know that with enough power, sound could puncture a hole in a steel wall?"

"I didn't." He looked at his hands, frowning at the red sauce left behind from his unappetizing meal. His girlfriend looked over at him, that probing look in her much too blue eyes, and he sighed. "Sorry. I just feel like shit today."

She blinked. "Why?"

"I dunno. A whole bunch of things I guess." Like the worry about grades that's cemented itself to his psyche; like his sexual frustration, further exacerbated by last night's unwelcome visitor; and at last his newfound dislike for Ishida, who was still subtly glowering at him from across the cafeteria. "Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. I'm used to you acting like this," she reminded inconsequentially, and closed her book to pay him full attention. "Let me make it up to you. We can go out tonight, just the two of us. Without distractions."

Amber flicked up to cerulean. "None?"

"None," Rukia promised with a winsome smile, rising to take her own tray up. He watched her walk over there, unbothered by any antisocial nerds (his eyes flickered to Ishida momentarily) until she was almost back, her tracks promptly crossed by Senna Shuurin. To his surprise, Rukia seemed interested in whatever the bouncy young woman was talking about; and he looked away, thumbing open the book she had been looking at, finding it an anthology of world records. Just the sort of thing she'd read. "Yeah," she said when she sat, rather breathlessly, "Just us. Once our homework's done."

"Of course," he grumbled, but inwardly, warmth was slinking through Ichigo. Just him and Rukia... "Whatever you want."

A satisfied smile; she opened her book again. "Now stop sulking and go buy me a candy bar."

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

She looked beautiful, of course. Her hair pulled back, showing ears decorated with shining studs, her small frame clad in a blue dress shirt and black slacks. Of course she wouldn't wear a skirt unless it was absolutely necessary, and since her mother wasn't around, that wasn't the case; still her appearance did not fail to entice him, draw him near her as they walked together into the small restaurant, one she'd chosen out of the phone book and convinced him to go to without much effort. Nowadays he was much more compliant; something she equally liked and disliked about him, as it was always nice to see the same stubborn Ichigo she'd met all those months ago.

That was the Ichigo she saw when amber eyes roved over the simple menu. "None of this stuff's gonna fill me up."

"Then get an appetizer," she supplied, watching him shrug and put the menu down. "I'm glad you came out with me tonight."

"You're acting like I would've said no." He ignored his straw and tipped the glass down his throat, gulping down water at record speed. "Or are you just trying to start a conversation?"

"I don't _know_ you would've said yes," Rukia countered. "I thought you'd be mad at me after last night."

It took a minute for his brain to discombobulate that. "Wh—No, I—I mean, I would've _liked_ to, but I wasn't mad at you." Heat sprawled up his neck and cheeks and he hoped she didn't notice in such dim light. "I was mad at Byakuya."

"Aren't we all." Blue eyes rolled. "I still think it's a little odd they had a boy though. I thought for certain I'd have another sister."

"I don't think the world could handle a third Kuchiki chick," Ichigo remarked offhandedly, and she smiled.

"Probably not."

Rukia recognized the waitress as her neighbor, Mashiro, who she had never really expected to get a job let alone have the attention span to wait tables. Nonetheless, she smiled effervescently and pulled a tiny notebook from her maroon apron. "Hi, what can I get for you tonight?"

She watched as Ichigo ordered his appetizer as well as the largest steak the restaurant offered, feeling rather mousy as she asked for her small pasta. The green-haired waitress scribbled on her pad then took the menus away, walking off with her bubbly step not unlike Senna's and disappearing from view.

Once she did, the orange-haired teen surprised her: "I've met her before. She came to Dad's clinic."

"What was wrong with her?"

"Never said. Confidentiality." He rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder how Dad's even smart enough to tell people what's wrong with them, he's off his rocker."

Rukia looked into her drink; perhaps Ichigo didn't understand how his mother's death must've affected Isshin, but now wasn't the best time to bring it up in any case. She cleared her throat, finding it rough. "So, are you ready for exams?"

_Exams? Really?_ Weren't a boyfriend and girlfriend supposed to talk about more interesting things? Ichigo fought the grimace that threatened to crop up and replied, "Fine. I just don't wanna fail."

"No one does." For a while sat there, feeling a bit unsettled, as she was progressively more often. How was she to go about initiating romantic conversation? Why was playful banter so much easier? And worst of all, why was Ichigo having such a hard time with it as well? "So… we've been dating a week and a half now."

He looked up. "Yeah," and then looked away, off to his left, an awkward look passing over his visage. "Everybody already knows."

"How?"

"Senna," he said flatly.

"Of course."

Another long silence; soft music played in the background, and her gaze jutted to another young couple, giggling with entwined hands. Teeth came down on her lip; looking at herself and the boy opposite her, would anyone even think they were together? "Ichigo."

"Hn?"

"Kiss me."

A stutter-shook glance, "Rukia?"

So she made the first move, pulling his considerable height down to her and connecting their lips, her eyes slipping closed. Amber alight with surprise soon dimmed to gratification and then disappeared completely behind lids. His tongue poked between her lips but was instantly rejected; but everyone had limits and of course Rukia was no exception. This was fine for him, the hypnotizing scent in his face and small hands firm on his shoulders, his problems shortly forgotten and his mind freewheeling into that easy chasm that was—well, bliss.

When she pulled away, his lips were a bit tender; surprised, he looked at her with a crooked smile. "Midget," as she was trying to look away from him, her cheeks stained, "You really are something."

"Thanks," Rukia breathed, enjoying the way his temperature had so clearly climbed, if his inflamed ears were any indication. "You are too." And they sit down, the air around a bit headier than before, Ichigo's lips stuck in a perpetual grin as he pushed a hand through his hair. At the image, she smiled too, sucking greedily at her water to qualm the heat in her throat.

A few minutes later, he spoke again. "Where did that come from?" with a breathless laugh.

Rukia smiled wryly. "Are you complaining?"

"Ha. I guess not." And Mashiro arrived with his appetizer, a platter of many different things, sitting it on the table with a flourish and chatting softly with Rukia (who evidently was difficult for her to recognize) about the state of affairs within the Kuchiki household, and _did Hisana have her baby yet _and _oh my, Akamori moved out? _Ichigo ate, listening to his girlfriend's short answers, and still trying to decipher her sudden urge to kiss him in the middle of dinner. As she'd implied, no, he wasn't complaining – but had it been a product of her problem (one they shared) when it came to communicating like a couple was supposed to?

Probably.

Not that it really mattered. Like their friendship had been rocky at first, he supposed their relationship would be, too, and there was no avoiding or transcending it. Slowly he guessed it'd be like second nature to them after a while, just like the snarky little arguments and well-directed punches sans Rukia. Or, rather, he hoped it would be. "What're we going to do after this?"

"We could watch a movie?"

"At the theater?"

"At home." He liked that she referred to their tiny little dormitory in such a way; as if it was a place she enjoyed inhabiting, though for him it was not the same. No, his favorite place to spend time with Rukia was his own bedroom, thirty miles away. At his 'okay', she promptly stole some of his food.

Joking and teasing like they always had, Rukia found that the dinner passed with much more ease after that point. She didn't feel pressured or annoyed by her own persistent awkwardness; in fact said awkwardness had been thrown to the wind, replaced with the brazen confidence that had for some reason been beyond her for the majority of the day. Mashiro returned to burden her with more of her tittering conversation but it was not as painful as before; in fact, she found she almost _liked _chattering with her estranged neighbor, as if she weren't an annoyance.

After paying they retreated to Ichigo's car. "So," he said. "Good date?"

"I've had better," she said with a teasing condescension, tipping her nose in the air. He rolled his eyes and started the car, smiling lightly despite himself. Rukia turned on some bopping song he didn't find particularly listen-worthy but had no trouble with, opening the window the slightest bit and letting the harsh winter air into the car. He thanked the gods for his parka.

Back at the dorm building, he saw Tasuko Kouji flirting shamelessly with the receptionist (as oblivious Senna stood a few feet away, texting rampantly) and sighed, however forgetting about it when a small hand clasped his own. He looked down at Rukia, whose hair had nearly fallen out of its clip, and remembered their movie-watching intentions.

She picked a movie she said he'd like; _Inception, _the glorious mindfuck with that DiCaprio guy, who Ichigo had always found a little fruity but bearable. With a bowl of orange popcorn at her side, Rukia shamelessly ruined each part for him just before its happening, but then he really wasn't paying as much attention to the movie as he was to Rukia, who really looked nice in the blue light of the TV screen.

Whenever the film ended, she looked bleary, worn-out, and his suspicions were voiced when with a yawn, she declared: "I'm tired. Let's go to sleep."

And so he followed her; she made him look away when she changed into her thick Chappy-covered pajamas, tugging him into bed with her and telling him about her favorite parts of the movie, her voice strained as she struggled to keep her eyes open. However there was one tired phrase he remembered:

"I love you, Ichigo."

.,.,.,.,.,.,

Ichigo decided that if he ever met the man who invented exams, he'd tear him a new one.

Two and a half hours in a tiny little classroom with Soifon, wracking his brains to remember only the tiniest bits of Chinese he'd managed to retain throughout the semester. Rukia sat five seats away, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she worked easily through the thick exam packet, the first one to turn it in (after Ishida, of course). Afterward she watched Ichigo, who shot her a desperate look every handful of minutes, only to receive apologetic shrugs.

With ten minutes left, and he being the only person who still had a paper, our orange-haired friend guessed on every single answer.

He yawned as he placed the packet on the instructor's desk. She glared at him.

"Ichigo!" a voice hissed. His brow furrowing he looked back to see Orihime, who had a rather hefty basket sitting on the corner of her desk. "I'm collecting donations for the Winter Formal! Do you have any extra—"

"No, I don't." He fiddled with his pencil, turning away from her and through the corner of his eye watching her deflate. He could only see Rukia, whose petite legs stretched out in front of her as she made an attempt to fall asleep at her desk, an attempt unsuccessful thanks to the painfully loud voices of Senna and Tasuko, conveniently seated directly in front of Hitsugaya, who looked about ready to blow his own brains out.

Soifon dryly informed them that she was 'stepping out' for a minute, presumably to go stalk Yoruichi or complain to the office about some nonexistent problem. The classroom erupted into conversation, turning their desks toward each other. He just looked at Rukia, who was looking through the notes for her next exam. Ichigo got up and kneeled next to her. "Hey."

She smiled easily. "Hi." And shut her binder. "How did you sleep?"

"All right, I guess." After he'd laid awake for hours. "You?"

"Fine." He liked the way she flicked her hair out of her eyes only for more of it to fall back down. "I kept waking up."

"Me too."

For a while he simply sat there, his amber eyes moving about her face. There was just so much he could do; question her, taunt her, flirt with her—and the opportunity to do it all made his head spin. It was still so hard for him to get it through his head that she'd wanted to be with him, as stupid as it sounded. "Can we stay up tonight?"

"And do what?" Rukia organized her books, largest to smallest from the bottom-up, as she always did before going to her next class.

"What we always do."

"And what's that?" she smiled crookedly, since they really had no actual routine. On nights where nothing else happened they would spend a little while on homework, then talk themselves to sleep. Not exactly the most exciting things in the world, but they were fine with Ichigo.

He shrugged. "Forget I said anything."

A hand came down to mess with shocking-orange hair; his eyelids lowered a bit, as it relaxed him. "You know I'll probably just pass out, right?"

A wry smile. "Yeah. Probably."

And later that night, she was true to her word.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.

Rukia visited home for the weekend, on Byakuya's insistence. It was dark out, six or seven thirty, whenever Ichigo dropped her off.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked, with genuine concern.

"I'll be fine." She reassured him with a smile that came out rather crooked, but had the desired effect all the same. He eased up a bit in the eyes. "You can come pick me up in the morning, if you want."

A somber nod; Ichigo restarted the car. She pecked him on the cheek and got out, her boots sloshing in the snow as the made her way up the stony path. Her house was lit up, its orange luminosity painting the snow in front of it.

She knocked uncertainly, once, and then twice. Her mother was probably busy with a roast or some other concoction that had probably taken her hours to make.

It was her father, in his suit as always. "Come in, Rukia."

The house smelled like vanilla, probably thanks to the candles in golden stands flanking the walls of the foyer. She breathed in and felt her unease melt away. "Hi, Dad," she said.

He smiled tightly. "Your mother's in the kitchen."

A bit confused by the muted imperative to go and talk to Hisana, Rukia made her way through the sweet-smelling rooms until she reached the sweetest, explained by the pie sitting fresh out of the oven. Her mother, (who she wasn't used to seeing with a flat stomach) flew up to hug her, asking cursory questions about school, Ichigo, and things like that. Rukia's breath was short as she replied, stunted by the disbelief she felt, realizing just how much she had _missed _her mother.

Byakuya stood in the doorway, watching Rukia interact so eagerly with his wife. He'd been wondering what she was up to at that school (a nice enough place, but seriously lacking in order considering the fact they had allowed boys to room with girls). It was always beyond her to call, though it was somewhat clear that much was his own fault. After all it doesn't take a rocket scientist to conclude that neither of his daughters were particularly fond of him.

He wanted to fix it; that was part of the reason she was here.

"Rukia," he inquired, and their nearly identical faces turned to him, "How are your grades?"

"They're fine," she answered promptly. "I have nothing below a B. We've started exams and I've been exempted from most of them, so I don't have school for about a week."

"I don't have school ever," remarked a voice. Rukia turned to see her sister in the doorway, in a wool pullover and jeans. It's more conservative than her usual ensemble. "Hey, kid."

The shorter girl grinned on impulse; it's been a while since she's seen Akamori. "Where's Renji?"

The eldest Kuchiki child jerked her thumb back toward the living room. "He's with your little brother. Who you haven't met yet, by the way."

And with that Rukia almost wanted to slap herself; how the hell had she forgotten about the baby? She sidestepped Akamori and walked through the rooms with uncharacteristic speed, her heart racing. Finally she reached the room aglow with the blue light of the television, where Renji sat on the couch near a crib.

"Rukia," he said, looking tired and wan. "How's everything going?" And it was strange just how much he seemed to have aged within the month or so they hadn't seen each other, the lines of his mouth and eyes intensifying.

"Fine." She stands over the crib and marvels at the newest member of their family; a little boy with a thatch of jet-black hair. She couldn't quite tell who he looked like yet. "How's it going?"

"It goes." He switched off the television and moved to join her in front of the crib. There was a strange look in his eyes as he surveyed the infant; one of remorse. "Isn't it crazy how a couple of old people can have kids so easily?"

With a rather painful jolt she remembered her sister's miscarriage. "I'm sorry."

"Wasn't anyone's fault," Renji replied, with forced nonchalance. "Just happens. How's Ichigo?"

Idly she thought about Ichigo, who was probably dealing with Isshin's antics at that moment. "He's fine."

"Jeez, whatever happened to you never shutting up? Say something other than 'fine'," Renji groused, but he wore a good-natured smile as he picked up the child and carried it back to the kitchen; Rukia had no choice but to follow, or be left alone to wonder what happened to her never shutting up.

When they returned Akamori was telling Hisana a rather animated tale of something that happened at work; evidently she'd gotten a job as a waitress downtown. Rukia couldn't help but feel a small guilt monster gnaw at her intestines; after all, she'd always promised her sister she'd keep in touch. Byakuya had disappeared, as he tended to do. She sat at the table and looked more closely at them. Hisana of course looked rather exhausted, having given birth a few days before; she had on her favorite apron over a black dress, and tiny pearl earrings. The overall effect was quite nice.

Her sister looked thin; malnourished would probably be a better word for it. Rukia could see planes and angles on her face she never had before, and Renji—well, Renji seemed slimmer as well, but not to the same extent. "Hey, Rukia, whatever happened to Hitsugaya? I told him to get his little ass back here for the night but of _course _he didn't show up."

"He's probably busy. There's a girl he really likes," she blurted, and nearly clapped a hand over her mouth. Because whenever that phrase escaped she wound up telling them all the complete story of Toshiro, Senna, and Tasuko (what she knew of it, anyway). Whenever it was over Hisana smiled.

"He'll be okay. The first love is always the most difficult," her mother murmured sentimentally. Akamori rolled her eyes. "Speaking of which, you never did tell me much about how Ichigo's doing."

"Mom." She looked at her hands. "He's fine." Because no matter how much she loved Ichigo it was still difficult to talk about him for long periods, for fear that Byakuya would come in and turn harmless comments into lectures. He had a way of doing that. "You still haven't told me anything about the baby. When did you have him?"

And that uncontrollable happiness broke out over Hisana's visage; bless her. "Wednesday. I had to wake your father at three-thirty in the morning! It's really a simple story…"

Rukia listened to her mother's tale, mostly because she was so clearly brimming with delight over it, but also because she really was curious and remorseful she hadn't been around to see any of this as her sister probably had.

Nevertheless, she went to school. She was going to have a _future, _and Akamori was not.

Somehow, that thought didn't make her feel any better.

The pie was cut and pieces were passed around; Hisana held the baby and played with his tiny fingers, whilst Renji and Akamori chatted amongst themselves, bantering over some TV show they'd watched the day before. As she watched them she realized that they really weren't that different from she and Ichigo; they fought over stupid little things, but it seemed like nothing was wrong in the end. However, she imagined their relationship was probably a thousand times more complex, because they'd fought and made up a thousand more times, and knew each other much better.

And that made her feel worse.

Later, she drifted upstairs, her eyes taking in the family portraits lining the walls. The one of her, Byakuya and Akamori—taken some time when she was a preteen—held particular resonance with her in that she realized just how much things had changed since the camera had flashed on them. Now she was growing up, and her sister had run out already, only to be welcomed back. Her father had grown cold—or maybe he always had been, and she had never noticed it.

Her room was a bit neater than she remembered leaving it, but her rabbits were still lined up neatly on the navy blue coverlet. She sank into it, kicking off her boots and socks, and took a deep breath. If Ichigo were here, he'd make some remark about her being lazy, then throw one of the plushies at her, or something like that.

God, she missed him.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

I hope you at least _sort of _liked the chapter and you don't still want to kill me violently, but there it is, probably one of the longest chapters I've ever written for SLTM. _Violetta_'s chapters round out to about 20,000 words minimum, so you can count on these being much higher from now on as well, whenever I do get around to finishing them. I do promise, however, that I will work diligently on SLTM now that I've reeled you all back in (or, at least I think I tried to). I've been thinking about it for a while and I really do get upset sometimes as I feel stuck when it comes to formulating the plot. I often delete the plans I've made for it, all the way up to the end, and revise them completely. That is to say, I'm very much up in the air about all of this. I hope you understand.

Regarding the chapter itself, I feel like I did quite well in the beginning, but that it grew weaker toward the end as I was rushing to get it finished. The one-year mark since my last update was January 18, and passing that was actually depressing, because I remember vowing to never take too long between updates. Then I broke my promise. I'm sorry.

But, regardless. I sincerely hope that you liked this chapter, and that you'll review it. :D Thank you, by the way, for the emails and messages concerning the story. They were very inspiring and they helped me get motivated. ~

Now, thoughts?


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